Swe 


BU 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 
OF 


GIFT 


4  SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE 


HE    IS   WAITING   FOR   ME. 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE 


BY  MRS.  BURTON  HARRISON 

AUTHOR  OF   "  THE  ANGLOMANIACS,"   "  CROW'S  NEST  AND 
BELHAVEN  TALES,"  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

C.  D.  GIBSON 


NEW  YORK:  THE  CENTURY  CO, 

1893 


Copyright,  1892,  1893,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 


All  riylits  reserved. 


GIFT 


THE   DEVINNE   CRESS. 


955 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"HE  is  WAITING  FOR  ME"  FRONTISPIECE 

"  WE  ARE  BEHIND  TIME,  MRS.  VANE-BENSON  AND  I "  13 

"  MRS.  VERNON  HAD  CROSSED  THE  RUBICON  "  35 

"  AWFULLY  KIND  OF  You  TO  COME  TO  OUR  LITTLE 

SHANTY  IN  THE  WILDERNESS  "  61 

THE    MEETING  IN    MRS.   VAN   SHIFTER'S   EMPIRE 

ROOM  77 

"WHEN  LUELLA  'LOST  HER  GRIP'"  95 

"ARE  N'T  You  PLEASED  WITH  ME?"  129 
"  OH  !  I  AM  GLAD  THAT  TEMPEST  IN  A  TEA-POT  is 

OVER "  139 


it 


YES;  IT  is  Too  BAD"  153 


11  You  MUST  TELL  YOUR  FRIEND  NOT  TO  BE  FRIGHT 
ENED  BY  THE  HOUSE"  193 

"LORD  AND  LADY  WILLIAM  HAMPSHIRE"  207 


M621510 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE 


BURST  of  fortissimo  music  from 
the  organ,  which  had  been  daw 
dling  over  themes  from  Wagner's 
operas,  caused  every  head  in  the 
seated  congregation  to  turn  briskly 
around.  Some  people  stood  up, 
swaying  to  catch  a  first  glimpse  of  the  bride.  Out 
siders,  tucked  away  in  undesirable  back-pews,  went 
so  far  as  to  scramble  upon  the  cushioned  seats. 

It  was,  however,  a  false  alarm.  The  middle  aisle, 
center  of  interest,  developed  nothing  more  striking 
than  a  trim  little  usher,  in  pearl  gloves  with  a  button 
hole  of  white  carnations,  convoying  to  her  place  of 
honor  beyond  the  ribbon  a  colossal  lady  with  auburn 
front,  red  in  the  face,  and  out  of  breath. 

Conversation  in  pews  reserved  for  the  elect  of  good 
society. 

She :  "  Hum  !  Bridegroom's  maiden  aunt,  sup 
pressed  generally — how  Freddy  rushes  her  along! 
Sent  twelve  silver  soup-plates  and  a  huge  tureen, 
when  everybody  knows  soup  is  served  from  behind 

1 


2  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

the  screen,  and  it  would  take  all  one  servant's  time  to 
keep  'em  clean — but  she  thinks  she  's  paid  her  way 
well  to  the  front,  poor  soul !  " 

He:  "Here  's  the  groom's  mother — deuced  fine 
woman  yet  is  Mrs.  Vernon.  Who  'd  believe  she  'd  a 
son  of  five-and-twenty  1  Hates  to  admit  it  publicly, 
but  is  putting  on  the  best  face  she  can." 

She:  "Not  her  best  face — her  second  best.  I've 
seen  her  improve  on  that.  But  then,  this  half  day 
light,  half  electricity  is  abominably  trying.  And  she 
really  does  look  very  well,  viewed  from  the  rear." 

He:  "Clever,  too — the  way  she  's  run  the  family 
up — when  one  thinks  what  the  husband  was." 

She :  "  Does  one  ever  think  of  him  ?  By  the  way, 
what  was  he — soldier,  sailor,  tinker,  tailor,  what  ? " 

He:  "Tinker,  most  likely,  considering  the  family 
brass.  I  saw  him  once — coarse-grained  creature, 
epidermis  like  an  elephant,  diamond  in  his  shirt-front, 
and  all  that.  Speculated  after  the  war  in  Virginia 
City  mines,  and  made  a  big  fortune  •  then  dropped 
dead  of  apoplexy,  and  left  it  for  her  to  spend.  She- 
sent  her  boy  to  a  good  school ;  gave  with  a  free  hand 
to  all  the  charities;  boy  made  friends  everywhere; 
went  through  Harvard  like  a  streak;  has  traveled, 
yachted,  hunted,  been  in  the  best  sets  ever  since ;  is 
about  to  marry  into  one  of  the  proudest  of  the  ex 
clusive  families  of  New  York — and  there  you  are." 

She  :  "  Oh  !  But  he  's  really  such  a  beauty,  don't 
you  know  ?  Half  the  women  in  town  have  been  pull 
ing  caps  for  Jerry  Vernon.  And,  after  all,  what  are 
the  Hallidays  but  has-beens?" 

He :   "  Take  care.     There  's  one  of  their  high-born 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  3 

ramifications  glaring  at  you  from  the  next  pew  —  old 
lady  with  eye-glasses  and  a  sniff.  Came  up  from 
Second  Avenue  in  a  horse-car — looks  like  the  unicorn 
on  the  British  coat  of  arms." 

She  :  "  Gracious  !  It 's  the  bride's  cousin  or  some 
thing  ;  let  's  change  the  subject.  Oh !  did  you  hear 
poor  Mrs.  Jimmie  Crosland  could  n't  go  to  the  opera 
last  night  because  that  wretched,  jealous  husband 
shut  her  nose  in  a  wardrobe  door?" 

He  :  "  Really  ?  Was  n't  theirs  the  last  wedding  we 
came  to  in  this  church  ? " 

She:  " Of  course.  Don't  you  remember ?  Regular 
peep-show ;  six  chorus  girls  from  the  opera,  in  white 
veils,  to  sing  "The  voice  that  breathed  o'er  Eden.' 
They  say  she  even  hired  the  pages  to  hold  up  her 
train — put  'em  in  Charles  II.  wigs,  and  passed  'em  off 
for  little  brothers." 

He:  " Exactly.  One  gets  these  theatrical  affairs 
so  confoundedly  mixed  up.  See,  the  groom's  mother 
is  still  upon  her  knees.  A  woman  could  n't  pray  so 
conspicuously  unless  in  back  seams  from  Worth." 

She :  "  For  shame  !  How  malicious  you  men  are  ! 
I  should  have  said  it  's  because  she  's  keeping  Mrs. 
Vane-Benson  standing  in  the  aisle  for  every  one  to 
see.  You  know  they  have  been  at  some  trouble  to 
corral  relatives  to  match  the  bride's,  and  Mrs.  Vane- 
Benson  's  their  trump  card.  How  bored  the  poor 
rector  looks  waiting  in  his  bower  of  palms." 

He  :  "  Queer  how  people  marry,  and  bury,  and  flirt, 
under  palm-trees,  nowadays !  I  'm  getting  awfully 
tired  of  being  tickled  by  the  spiky  things  every  time 
I  sit  out  a  dance,  or  go  to  call  upon  a  girl.  Hullo ! 


4  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

There  's  Mrs. — what  does  she  call  herself  since  she 
got  her  divorce  ? " 

She  (animated) :  "Is  she ?  No,  really  ?  I  would  n't 
have  missed  seeing  Hildegarde  de  Lancey  for  the 
world.  It 's  the  first  time  she  's  been  out.  Is  n't  she 
perfectly  lovely  in  that  gray  bengaline  and  chinchilla, 
with  the  bunch  of  violets  at  her  breast?  I  always 
did  say  Hildegarde — de  Lancey  she  is  now  5  so  nice  to 
have  got  rid  of  her  odious,  ugly  Smithson — is  the  best- 
dressed  woman  in  this  town.  Why,  what  a  belle  she 
is !  I  believe  all  the  ushers  would  like  to  escort  her 
in  a  body  up  the  aisle.  Of  course  Freddy  de  Witt 
saved  her  a  front  place.  He  knows  what  people  want 
to  see." 

He:  "She  's  a  charmer,  certainly.  If  I  were  the 
Mrs.  Gerald  Vernon  that  is  soon  to  be,  I  'd  be  rather 
glad  Mrs.  de  Lancey  is  proposing  to  live  abroad." 

She:  "Oh,  nonsense.  You  men  always  think  the 
worst.  Jerry  was  touched,  no  doubt,  but  Hildegarde 
meant  nothing.  You  can't  conceive  of  a  greater  brute 
than  Smithson,  and  Hilda  was  always  such  a  darling 
thing.  Every  one  says  she  is  in  luck  to  get  rid  of 
him  so  soon.  How  well  she  looks — no  wonder  every 
body  stares.  Oh,  I  'm  so  glad  we  're  to  have  Hilda 
back ! " 

Elsewhere  in  the  church. 

A  mother  in  Israel  to  her  young  daughters:  "So 
that  's  the  famous  divorcee,  Mrs.  What  's-her-name 
Smithson,  the  papers  have  been  so  full  of  lately? 
Don't  look  at  her,  Doris  and  Gladys ;  I  insist  that  you 
don't  look  that  way.  Have  you  observed  the  figure 
of  Dorcas  in  poor  Mrs.  Golding's  memorial  window? 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  5 

The  drawing  of  the  right  arm  is  excellent — I  wonder 
if  that  person  does  anything  to  her  hair  to  give  it  that 
baby  gold.  I  w^ould  n't  trust  her  any  farther  than  I 
could  see.  Dear  me !  the  best  people  bowing,  and 
smirking,  and  trying  to  catch  her  eye.  Ahem  !  Mrs. 
de  Lancey's  toque  sits  quite  close  to  the  head,  girls ;  I 
think  it  much  more  becoming  than  those  great  cart 
wheel  hats  you  insisted  upon  having  sent  home." 

Doris  and  Gladys :  "  We  know,  mama ;  we  've  been 
watching  her  ever  since  she  came  into  the  church. 
What  fun  it  must  be  to  make  as  much  stir  as  the 
bride ! " 

Two  girls  in  tailor  gowns,  with  fur  boas  and  muffs. 
They  have  come  in  an  omnibus  to  the  nearest  corner, 
and  were  splashed  with  mud  in  getting  out. 

"  Dear  me  !  we  are  lucky,  but  I  had  to  push  awfully 
to  squeeze  in.  If  I  had  n't  known  Tom  Brounlee,  I  'd 
have  never  had  this  seat.  He  asked  me  if  we  are 
going  on  to  the  house,  and  I  coughed  and  smiled,  and 
he  took  it  to  mean  yes.  My,  Jennie,  look  at  the  new 
suits !  I  can  tell  you  the  names  of  'most  everybody 
here.  I  do  know  the  bride,  anyhow,  for  we  're  011  a 
working-girl's  amusement  board,  together.  I  must 
say  she  's  as  nice  a  girl  as  I  ever  wish  to  meet.  Can't 
say  as  much  for  her  sister,  Miss  Betty — such  a  lank, 
sour-looking  thing,  and  a  tongue  sharp  as  a  razor. 
Nobody  can  stand  her  in  our  club.  I  wish  the  organ 
would  n't  play  so  loud  you  can't  hear  yourself  talk. 
Gracious,  child  !  lean  over,  and  let  me  take  that  lump 
of  mud  off  your  face.  I  'm  thinking  I  can  alter  my 
blue  Henrietta  cloth  by  putting  coat-tails  bound  with 
velvet  on  the  basque,  like  the  one  that's  just  gone  by. 
1* 


6  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

Have  a  chocolate,  do  j  got  'em  fresh  to-day,  as  I  passed 
by  Tyler's,  on  my  way  to  match  my  blue.  Oh !  I  do 
love  weddings.  I  go  to  every  single  one  I  can." 

Lady  from  the  Faubourg  St.  Stuyvesant,  seated 
well  forward  in  the  church. 

"Poor  Margaret  Halliday!  there  she  comes  with 
Betty  and  Trix  and  Jack.  I  wonder  if  her  grand 
father  is  n't  turning  in  his  grave  at  this  minute,  over 
the  marriage  of  a  Halliday  with  one  of  these  upstart 
Vernons.  Humph!  Margaret  looks  haggard,  Betty 
as  yellow  as  a  pumpkin,  Trix  rather  overblown,  and 
Jack  growing  up  one  of  the  beefy  kind.  I  'm  glad  it 
is  n't  my  daughter  who  's  to  be  sacrificed,  that 's  all." 

Lady,  who  has  secured  end  of  pew  on  aisle,  whisper 
ing  to  her  husband  next  to  her. 

"  George,  that  's  Mrs.  Clarkson  that  edged  by  you 
just  now.  If  you  'd  known  it,  you  'd  surely  have  been 
more  polite.  'Who  in  the  dickens  is  Mrs.  Clarkson, 
anyway  ? '  When  we  met  them  at  dinner  at  the  Tomp- 
kins',  and  you  took  her  in,  and  were  so  charmingly 
agreeable !  I  declare,  if  I  'd  had  the  least  idea  you 
were  going  to  be  glum  and  cross  at  a  wedding,  I  'd 
never  have  persuaded  you  to  come.  *  Enough  for  you 
to  have  had  to  shell  out  the  sixth  pair  of  piano-candle 
sticks  this  year,  without  boring  yourself  with  the  wed 
ding  too  ! '  George  !  You  know  you  were  always  fond 
of  Nellie  Halliday.  Please  try,  only  try — I  don't  say 
you  will  succeed — to  be  a  little  lit  like  other  people. 
I  have  given  up  hoping  for  more  when  you  go  out 
with  me."  (Mrs.  Clarkson  just  then  engaging  George 
in  conversation,  he  becomes  easy  and  smiling  on  the 
spot.) 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  7 

Two  Hibernian  ladies,  in  silk  gowns  and  imitation 
cashmere  shawls,  are  ushered  into  the  seats  reserved 
for  the  domestics  of  both  families. 

"Arrah  now,  it  's  a  sad  day,  Misthress  Branigan, 
an'  you  that 's  cuk  in  it  only  this  twelvemonth  can't 
tell  the  faylins  o'  me,  that  raised  me  little  Nellie  from 
a  four-year-old ;  the  light  o'  the  house  goes  out  wid  her, 
the  darlint.  '  Go,  Norah,'  says  she,  pushin'  me  wid  her 
two  honds  like  swan's-down,  'be  off  wid  ye  to  the 
church,  an'  sthop  yer  cryin',  to  watch  yer  gyirl  come 
oop  the  aisle  in  all  her  finery.'  'An'  is  it  happy  ye 
are,  Miss  Nell  f '  says  I.  '  Norah,'  says  she,  wid  a  little 
swate  smile  in  the  eyes  of  her,  l  if  it 's  the  last  word  I 
have  to  spake  to  me  old  nurse  before  I  'm  med  Mis 
thress  Vernon,  I  'm  that  happy  I  'm  afraid.' " 

Duet  in  the  vestry.  Jerry  Vernon  and  his  best  man, 
Dick  Henderson. 

The  bridegroom :  "  Oh,  but  I  say,  old  man,  some 
thing  's  happened  at  the  house,  or  in  the  street,  or — 
hang  it,  you  need  n't  grin.  Look  at  the  soles  of  these 
boots,  will  you?  If  that  infernal  fellow  of  mine 
has  n't  been  and  put  a  brand-new  pair  on  me,  after 
all  j  and  all  the  ushers  and  bridesmaids  will  be  grin 
ning  when  we  kneel  down.  Don't  you  think  the 
rector  could  be  induced  to  bless  us  standing  up  f  I  'd 
double  the  fee,  or — anything.  Dick,  if  an  accident 
has  happened  to  that  girl — this  is  a  judgment  on  me 
for  jeering  at  those  who  went  before — I  never  heard 
such  a  bally  old  idiot  as  that  organist — he  makes  me 
fairly  crazy  with  his  jigging  tunes — you  're  sure 
you've  got  the  ring? — ridiculous  little  object  to  cause 
all  this  fuss,  is  n't  it? — Nell  wears  a  six  glove,  and 


8  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

look  at  the  height  of  her — I  never  could  have  married 
a  little  woman — by  Jove,  Dick,  I  wish  we  two  did  n't 
have  to  amble  in  there  before  everybody  and  simper 
at  the  crowd.  What  f  Coming  f  Back  me  up,  Dick, 
and  I  '11  go  at  it  like  a  man.  Nell  's  worth  it,  every 
time." 

Among  the  ushers  huddled  in  the  vestibule.  The 
weary  Mr.  Frederic  de  Witt,  mopping  his  beaded 
brow : 

"  Dumping  the  bridesmaids  outside,  are  they  ?  Well, 
I  'm  glad.  Great  Cassar !  but  I  'm  tired.  The  cheek 
of  women  at  weddings,  and  the  push  !  No ;  I  decline 
to  see  any  reporter.  I  refuse  to  divulge  where  they 
are  going  for  the  wedding  journey,  the  names  of  those 
here  present,  or  the  price  Jerry  paid  for  our  scarf-pins. 
You  gave  Jerry  notice  in  the  vestry,  did  you  ?  Hope 
you  did  n't  forget  to  remind  him  that  the  unfortunate 
man,  having  partaken  of  a  light  breakfast  of  eggs, 
bread,  and  coffee,  usually  walks  with  a  firm  step  to 
the  place  of  execution.  Hi,  there,  gentlemen !  Fall 
into  line  to  precede  the  bridesmaids,  if  you  please." 

Among  the  bridesmaids. 

"  If  we  look  as  well  as  the  couple  that  walk  before 
us,  I  'm  all  right.  These  directoire  hats  and  coats  are 
certainly  too  sweet.  Oh  !  are  n't  you  scared  to  death  ? 
But  it 's  better  than  being  Nell." 

The  bride  (divinely  tall  and  most  divinely  fair — a 
rose  flush  in  her  cheeks,  her  dark  lashes  downward 
bent,  her  dark  hair  knotted  low  on  her  neck,  the  old 
lace  of  her  mother's  bridal  veil  like  frost-work  upon 
her  trailing  robes  of  white,  no  ornament  but  a  string 
of  pearls  around  her  throat,  one  of  her  hands  lightly 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  9 

laid  on  the  arm  of  the  respectable  old  cousin  who  has 
been  haled  from  his  respectable  old  club  to  do  parental 
duty  for  the  day),  to  herself : 

"  I  saw  him.  He  is  waiting  for  me.  All  these  peo 
ple  are  here  to  see  me  become  Jerry's  wife.  But  it 
makes  no  difference.  If  we  were  in  a  desert  it  would 
be  just  the  same.  The  thought  of  him  fills  my  whole 
heart.  I  wonder  if  it  's  selfish  and  wicked  to  care  for 
nothing,  now,  but  the  joy  and  the  glory  of  being 
Jerry's  wife." 

"Until  death  us  do  part."  The  troth  plight  was 
interchanged ;  Jerry's  hand,  colder  than  her  own,  put 
the  ring  upon  her  finger;  and  the  rector,  who  had 
baptized  Eleanor,  pronounced  them  man  and  wife. 

During  the  ceremony  the  lower  part  of  the  church, 
having  sated  its  curiosity,  was  in  full  buzz  of  chat 
about  the  plainness  of  the  bride's  gown,  the  absence 
of  diamonds  reputed  to  have  been  given  by  the  groom, 
and  the  question  whether  guests  should  go  on  to  the 
reception  at  once,  or  amuse  themselves  with  other 
occupations  of  the  hour. 

While  the  clergyman  was  in  the  act  of  pronouncing 
the  benediction,  and  the  organist  was  panting  to  let 
himself  loose  on  the  wedding-march  from  "  Lohen 
grin,"  people  were  buttoning  their  wraps,  and  gliding 
out  of  the  church,  to  be  sure  of  their  carriages  before 
the  crush.  Hardly  had  Eleanor  passed  under  the 
awning  to  her  carriage — and  to  the  reality  of  life— 
before  public  interest  in  the  bride  had  in  a  great 
measure  exhaled. 

But  they  rallied  around  her  presently  in  the  house 
occupied  by  Mrs.  Halliday  and  her  daughters,  looking 


10  SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF   TUNE 

into  a  quiet  down-town  square.  The  wide  double 
drawing-rooms  of  the  old  family  mansion  had  put 
aside  their  shadows  for  the  day.  Under  an  arch  of 
greenery  and  lilies  Eleanor  received  her  friends,  Ger 
ald  at  her  side,  looking  quite  pitiably  conscious  and 
ill  at  ease. 

The  bridesmaids,  headed  by  Trix,  Nell's  eighteen- 
year-old  sister,  to  whom  this  event  was  a  species  of 
debut  into  society,  stood  in  a  semicircle,  wearing  the 
expression  of  amateur  actors  who  have  just  acquitted 
themselves  of  a  performance  in  which  they  happily 
believe  the  rest  of  the  world  to  have  been  as  much 
interested  as  were  they.  The  crowd,  jostling  forward 
to  pay  salutation  to  bride  and  groom,  continued  after 
ward  to  jostle  on  general  principles.  Exchanging  in 
quiries  to  which  no  one  listened  for  the  answer,  and 
comments  as  to  the  nicety  of  having  one  of  the  old- 
school  houses  open  again  for  entertainment,  they  then 
pushed  on  to  the  dining-room  to  partake,  less  enthu 
siastically,  of  an  old-school  collation  marked  by  the 
absence  of  terrapin  and  truffles,  and  by  the  limited 
amount  of  the  champagne.  From  the  walls  of  this 
refectory  looked  down  a  row  of  oil-paintings  in  faded 
frames  of  gilt ;  a  spirited  young  man  with  a  Henry 
Clay  stock  and  standing  collar,  flanking  a  high-colored 
lady  in  a  bonnet  with  a  bird-o'-paradise,  and  a  scarf 
over  her  bare  shoulders ;  sundry  Continental  soldiers, 
New  England  Brahmins,  and  a  stiif -busked  dame  or 
two  of  remoter  date,  with  attendant  cavaliers  in  peri 
wigs  and  ruffles.  Over  the  sideboard  hung  a  sour- 
visaged  personage  of  Revolutionary  date,  the  great 
grandfather  of  the  bride,  familiarly  spoken  of  among 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  11 

his  descendants  as  "  The  Signer."  He  was  a  strong 
tower  of  American  aristocracy,  and  Mrs.  Halliday 
always  felt  that  in  his  protecting  presence  at  her  par 
ties  she  could  venture  to  order  in  another  bottle  or  so 
of  soda-water  to  dilute  her  champagne  punch.  Every 
where  in  the  house  thus  brought  to  contemporaneous 
notice  there  were  marks  of  gentility  that  lacked  repair. 
The  hangings  and  furniture,  placed  there  before  the 
century's  new  birth  into  righteousness  of  taste,  were 
massive  but  shabby.  The  carpets,  worn  into  thread 
bare  spots  ill-concealed  by  modern  rugs — the  walls, 
faded  beyond  hiding  with  palms  and  rubber-trees 
sent  in  (on  close  contract)  by  the  florist — called  aloud 
for  restoration.  Although  it  was  the  fashion  to  say, 
when  glancing  casually  about  these  rooms,  "  How  de 
lightful  !  How  solid !  What  relief  after  the  varnish 
and  glitter  of  up-town !  "  no  one  was  observed  to 
linger  there  over  long,  or  to  return  unless  especially 
bidden  to  a  function  of  exigent  conventionality.  This 
afternoon,  in  custody  of  a  band  of  hirelings,  who  be 
fore  cockcrow  of  another  dawn  would  vanish,  bearing 
with  them  every  spoon,  fork,  plate,  and  glass  now  in 
service  for  the  guests,  the  premises  did  not  suggest 
even  their  usual  homely  comfort. 

But  to-day,  for  the  first  time  in  many  days,  Mrs. 
Halliday's  handsome  features  wore  a  look  of  com 
placent  satisfaction.  Betty,  the  eldest  daughter,  aged 
six-and-twenty,  plain,  angular,  and  pessimistic,  stood 
by  her  mother  at  the  door  of  the  drawing-room,  out 
side  of  which  was  posted  Andrews,  the  lean,  old-time 
butler,  to  announce  the  guests.  Jack,  the  collegian, 
tall  and  pink-cheeked,  with  a  down  on  the  upper  lip 


12  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

that  his  sister  Trix  thought  wonderful,  a  little  too 
conscious  of  a  new  frock-coat  with  its  buttonhole  of 
gardenias,  wandered  about  incessantly,  resenting  the 
notice  of  his  mother's  old  friends  who  told  him  how 
much  he  had  grown,  and  repudiating  suggested  resem 
blance  to  this  or  that  portrait  upon  the  walls.  In  the 
rear  of  the  two  ladies  was  a  man,  no  longer  in  his  first 
youth,  of  distinguished  though  inconspicuous  presence 
—  a  man  with  sleepy  gray  eyes  and  a  languid  manner, 
before  whom  Betty  was  always  at  her  best. 

"  My  dear  Anthony/7  his  hostess  had  said  to  him, 
"you  are  at  home  here;  you  know  everybody;  for 
Heaven's  sake,  stay  and  help  me  out  with  Nell's  l  in- 
laws.'" 

"  My  dear  cousin,  I  am  yours  as  always,"  he  had 
responded,  with  a  smile,  not  however  mirthful. 

"  The  list  is  fortunately  short,"  whispered  Betty  in 
mocking  tones.  "Here,  mother,  comes  your  very 
largest  pill — Nell's  new  mama." 

"  Yes,  everything  has  gone  off  well.  I  am  pleased 
that  you  admire  the  lace.  No,  my  daughter  is  not 
tired;  we  have  not  allowed  her  to  do  much."  Mrs. 
Halliday  was  conscious  of  her  thin,  cold  voice,  and 
felt  that  it  was  a  poor  return  for  Eleanor's  new  house, 
horses,  brougham,  victoria,  not  to  mention  the  neck 
lace  and  solar  system  in  diamonds,  already  at  the 
Safety  Deposit  Company's,  in  waiting  till  the  bride's 
return  from  her  wedding  journey, — the  last  Gerald's 
gift,  paid  for  by  Mrs.  Vernon's  check.  But  Mrs.  Ver- 
non  was  quite  beyond  the  point  of  sensitiveness  on 
the  trifling  score  of  measured  civilities.  Ensconced 
as  a  relative  within  these  shabby  walls,  she  felt  that 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  15 

her  price  was  far  above  rubies  or  diamonds  either! 
If  Jerry  had  to  put  upon  her  the  indignity  of  being  a 
prospective  grandmother,  he  had  at  least  done  it  in 
good  form. 

"We  are  behind  time,  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  and  I," 
she  said,  as  the  lady  named  made  her  bow,  and  retired 
to  mingle  with  the  throng  •  "  but  Mrs.  Vane-Benson 
judged  it  would  be  more  the  thing  for  us  to  let  the 
young  people — such  children !  but  I,  myself,  was 
married  at  sixteen — get  a  little  settled  down  before 
I  fluster  them  with  my  congratulations;  and  I  told 
her  I  guessed  she  was  right." 

Mrs.  Halliday  winced  at  the  voice  and  speech.  She 
hardly  dared  trust  herself  to  look  full  in  the  face 
this  modish  person  in  silver-gray  with  silver  broider 
ies,  with  the  silver  bonnet  perched  on  her  dark,  glossy 
locks,  with  the  brilliant  color  softened  by  rice-powder, 
the  dazzling  teeth,  the  frequent  laugh,  the  effusive 
cordiality,  the  aroma  of  prosperity.  She  became  con 
scious  of  lines  in  her  own  face,  and  of  a  break  under 
her  chin,  that  ought  to  have  been,  but  were  not,  in 
Mrs.  Vernoii's.  She  looked  down  at  her  old  black 
velvet  supplied  with  a  new  frontispiece  of  jetted  lace, 
and  marked  the  contrast  between  its  indescribable 
wispiness  and  the  crisp  perfection  of  Mrs.  Vernoii's 
attire.  Altogether,  she  was  in  some  haste  to  rid  her 
self  of  dear  Eleanor's  mama. 

"  You  will  be  wanting  to  speak  to  Nell  and  Gerald/' 
she  said.  "  Mr.  Theobald  will  give  you  his  arm  across 
the  rooms — Anthony — my  cousin  Mr.  Theobald,  Mrs. 
Vernon." 

The  hazel  eyes  took  on  a  new  luster  of  delight.     To 


16  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

be  translated  into  the  heart  of  that  inner  circle  that 
till  now  she  had  only  "brushed  with  extremest 
flounce  "  was  to  cross  the  room  leaning  011  the  arm  of 
"my — why  not  'our'?  —  cousin  Mr.  Theobald." 

To  Theobald,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  the  whole 
affair  was  a  somewhat  grim  comedy;  and,  abandon 
ing  himself  to  the  situation,  he  duly  brought  the 
widow  to  a  halt  before  the  bridal  pair. 

"My  dearest  Jerry — my  sweetest  Nell,"  the  lady 
said,  embracing  both  with  such  exuberance  that  Ger 
ald  fidgeted. 

"  We  shall  see  more  of  each  other  now,"  Eleanor  said, 
very  low.  "  Gerald  has  told  me  of  all  your  generosity ; 
he  thinks  there  was  never  a  mother  so  kind  as  his." 

"  Gerald  knows  I  shall  be  terribly  alone,"  began  the 
older  woman,  tears  ready  to  twinkle  in  her  eyes. 

aMadre,  you  must  n't,  please,"  the  young  fellow 
whispered,  in  a  tumult  of  alarm.  With  Freddy  de 
Witt,  Henderson,  and  the  others  looking  on,  he  felt 
that  an  expansion  of  maternal  tenderness  would  be 
his  death-blow. 

"Mrs.  Vernon  will  perhaps  allow  me  to  take  her 
into  the  dining-room,"  interposed  Mr.  Theobald,  from 
the  bride's  elbow,  where  he  had  been  standing  without 
speech. 

"  So  polite  of  you,  dear  Mr.  Theobald,"  exclaimed 
flattered  Madame  Mere,  linking  her  arm  again  in  his. 

The  danger  was  averted.  Nell,  who,  better  than  any 
other,  knew  Theobald's  fastidious  taste,  flashed  on  him 
a  quick  glance  of  gratitude.  She  reproached  herself, 
when  he  had  gone,  that  she  had  not  said  something  in 
the  way  of  personal  thanks  for  his  gift  of  the  etch- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT    OF   TUNE  17 

ings,  so  long  coveted,  which  had  arrived  that  morning 
framed  for  her  boudoir  in  the  new  home.  And  now 
her  attention  was  claimed  by  a  radiant  personage  who 
was  for  the  first  time  a  gnest  beneath  their  roof. 

"  It  was  more  than  I  hoped,  to  make  your  acquaint 
ance  in  this  way,"  said  Hildegarde  de  Lancey.  "  Mr. 
Vernon  and  I  have  always  been  such  chums." 

Eleanor  blushed,  remembering  the  little  passage- 
at-arms  with  her  mother  regarding  this  lady's  name 
upon  Jerry's  list.  She  sent  a  swift  inquiring  look— 
the  gaze  of  a  "young-eyed  cherub"  fortified  with 
innocence  —  into  the  pair  of  blue  orbs  that  met  hers 
with  a  deprecating,  almost  pathetic  appeal.  Certainly, 
such  an  ingenuous  beauty  could  not  be  to  blame  for 
her  undue  share  of  human  griefs. 

"We  are  glad  to  welcome  you,"  the  bride  said 
graciously. 

"Every  one  is  so  good  to  me,"  murmured  Hilde 
garde,  with  exquisite  pathos. 

"And  Gerald  says  you  have  been  so  good  to  him," 
went  on  Eleanor,  while  Jerry's  attention  was  absorbed 
by  some  one  else. 

"It  is  his  grateful  nature,  as  you  will  find.  But  I 
am  keeping  back  your  friends,  so  au  revoir,"  and  the 
vision  disappeared. 

"  Jerry,  she  's  exquisite,"  said  Eleanor. 

"Who  is? — there  are  so  many  shes.  Nell,  here  's 
my  Aunt  Tryphena,  who  sent  us  —  by  Jove,  what  did 
she  send  ?  Never  mind ;  thank  the  old  girl  profusely, 
and  choke  her  off — good  luck  a  man  don't  have  to 
gush  over  apostle-spoons  and  salt-cellars  every  day  of 
the  year." 


18  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  0  NELL,  it  must  be  so  nice  to  be  you/'  cried  Trix, 
presently,  when,  in  their  bedroom,  she  hovered  around 
her  sister,  helping  old  Norah  to  put  on  the  bride's 
frock  for  traveling.  "  This  sable  cape  Aunt  Penfold 
sent  is  simply  gorgeous.  Betty  says  she  'd  have  given 
mink,  if  you  had  married  a  poor  man.  And  Jerry 's 
so  good-looking,  and  such  a  dear — hurry,  Nell,  every 
body  's  in  the  hall,  and  Jerry  and  Jack  are  fussing, 
declaring  you  '11  miss  the  train — oh  !  I  've  been  hav 
ing  a  peep  out  of  the  window  at  your  new  brougham, 
lined  with  dark  myrtle-green  satin  such  as  we  've 
always  dreamed  of — such  horses,  such  rugs,  and  such 
a  big,  big  footman  to  tuck  you  in  and  touch  his  hat — 
no  more  cabs  by  the  hour  for  you,  you  lucky  girl." 

"  Run,  now,  you  silly  Trix,  and  tell  Jerry  I  '11  be 
there,  and  ask  mama  to  come ;  and  you,  Norah  dear, 
take  that  long  face  away  and  don't  let  me  see  it  till 
you  've  learned  to  smile.  Mama,  are  we  alone  ?  May 
I  lock  the  door?  Good-by,  darling,  darling;  and 
would  you  mind  sitting  down  upon  this  little  chair, 
and  letting  me  say  my  prayer  at  your  knee,  just  to 
ask  God  to  make  me  fit  for  such  perfect  happiness  ? " 


II 


Y  dear  Miss  Halliday,"  wrote  Mrs. 
Vernon  to  the  sister  of  her  new 
daughter-in-law,  a  few  days  after 
the  young  couple  had  left  town  on 
their  wedding  journey,  "Will  you 
and  your  sister  Beatrix  give  me  the 
great  pleasure  of  your  company  at  an  early  dinner, 
very  informally,  at  seven  o'clock  on  Wednesday  next, 
to  go  afterward  to  the  opera!  I  am  asking  your 
cousins  Mr.  Thomas  Halliday  and  Mr.  Theobald ;  and, 
with  the  exception  of  one  other  man,  we  shall  be  quite 
a  family  party.  I  am  longing  for  an  opportunity  to 
talk  over  with  you  the  first  news  from  our  darling 
wanderers.  Believe  me,  yours  faithfully,  M.  VERNON. 
Thursday." 

"'M.  Vernon,  Thursday' — humph!  Signs  herself 
like  a  duchess ;  her  name  7s  Martha  Luella  Ann,"  ob 
served  Betty,  throwing  the  note  upon  the  table  in  the 
up-stairs  sitting-room  where  the  ladies  Halliday  were 
wont  to  read,  sew,  write  notes,  discuss  their  friends, 
and  dictate  to  the  day-dressmaker.  "Family  party, 
indeed !  I  knew  we  'd  be  plunged  into  a  bosom 
friendship.  I  don't  believe  Anthony  Theobald  would 
be  caught  at  a  Vernon  dinner." 

19 


20  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  Oh,  yes,  lie  would,"  cried  Trix,  coming  in  equipped 
for  a  walk  with  her  fox-terrier  around  the  square.  "  I 
saw  him  after  the  play  last  night,  looking  wretched, 
really  •  and  he  asked  me  if  we  are  going,  and  said 
he  will  be  there." 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  approve  of  our  making  friends 
with  Mammon?"  said  Betty  to  her  mother.  "Don't 
you  think  it  's  enough  for  Nell  to  have  set  up  her 
golden  calf  ?  Why  can't  we  grovel  in  honest  pauper 
ism,  and  maintain  our  self-respect  ? " 

"  My  dear  Betty  !  "  said  Mrs.  Halliday,  compressing 
her  lips  resignedly.  She  had  long  ago  given  up  enter 
ing  the  lists  of  discussion  with  her  eldest  daughter. 

" I  want  to  go,"  said  Trix,  stoutly.  "I  'in  dying  to 
see  one  of  Mrs.  Vernon's  dinners,  and  to  go  to  the 
opera  under  the  shadow  of  her  new  tiara.  The  news 
papers  say  it 's  a  second-hand  crown  of  real  royalty, 
bought  at  a  Paris  sale." 

"  Well,  her  man  is  waiting,  so  make  up  your  minds," 
resumed  Betty,  sitting  down  at  the  davenport,  and 
dipping  her  pen  in  ink.  "If  the  senders  of  invita 
tions  could  hear  the  bickering  they  cause  in  families, 
I  don't  think  society  would  go  on  with  such  a  rush. 
So  you  insist  on  our  accepting,  mother  ? " 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  Mrs.  Halliday,  plucking  up 
spirit.  "  Trix  may,  for  we  must  keep  in  with  Nell's 
new  people ;  but  you  will,  as  usual,  do  exactly  as  you 
please." 

"It  may  end — who  knows? — in  Jerry's  Aunt  Try- 
phena  chaperoning  us  to  a  Patriarchs',"  murmured 
Betty,  dashing  off,  as  she  had  intended  to  do  since 
hearing  that  Theobald  was  to  be  of  the  party,  a  smooth 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE  21 

acceptance  of  Mrs.  Vernon's  courtesy.  "  I  like  l  our 
darling  wanderers/ — as  if  they  were  lost  dogs  !  " 

To  end  the  conversation,  Mrs.  Halliday  took  up  a 
newspaper  addressed  to  her  through  the  mail,  and 
tore  from  it  the  cover.  Trix,  departing  with  the  note 
and  the  terrier,  did  not  see  the  white  look  that  came 
upon  her  mother's  face,  or  hear  the  stifled  exclamation 
of  dismay  uttered  by  the  poor  lady  as  she  dropped  the 
journal  in  her  lap. 

"What  in  the  world  ails  you,  mother?"  began 
Betty. 

"  Oh !  this  is  infamous,"  cried  her  mother.  "  Take 
it  away.  I  refuse  to  read  another  word — mixing  up 
my  daughter's  name  with  the  scandal  about  that  de 
Lancey  woman's  divorce.  Betty,  if  Nell  were  to  see 
this,  it  would  break  her  heart.  Oh  !  if  her  father  had 
been  alive,  they  would  never  have  dared — of  course 
it  is  all  a  wretched  lie  about  Jerry  and  Mrs.  Smithson. 
Jerry  asked  for  her  invitation,  and  Jerry  is  a  gentle 
man,  at  least.  Betty,  I  've  no  patience  with  you,  stand 
ing  there  like  a  stock." 

For  Betty,  quite  mistress  of  herself,  had  picked  up, 
smoothed  out,  and  was  reading  the  offending  article 
with  a  scornful  little  smile.  It  was  one  of  those  upas- 
like  exotics  of  modern  society  journalism,  a  two-col 
umn  account  of  the  Vernon-Halliday  nuptials,  with 
side-issues  of  biography  of  all  concerned,  set  forth 
with  plentiful  cheap  wit,  audacious  statement,  and 
deadly  innuendo.  After  disposing  in  short  order  of 
the  bridegroom's  pretensions  to  social  importance,  and 
affecting  to  voice  the  surprise  of  good  society  that 
the  bride's  family  should  have  so  frankly  displayed 
2* 


22  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

its  inability  to  resist  a  golden  bait,  it  went  on  to  give 
at  length  the  history  of  Mr.  Gerald  Vernon's  late  well- 
known  infatuation  for  "our  most  recent  and  distin 
guished  divorcee." 

"  That 's  a  fin-de-siecle  phrase/'  quoth  Betty,  coolly, 
laying  down  the  journal  without  an  added  tinge  upon 
her  cheek.  "  My  dear  little  mammy,  don't  take  the 
thing  so  hard.  Everybody  will  read  it,  of  course,  and 
enjoy  it  thoroughly." 

"  Betty,  how  can  you  ?  I  shall  have  to  leave  town, 
certainly.  I  remember  when  I  danced  with  the  Prince 
of  Wales  at  the  Academy  ball,  and  my  dress  was  de 
scribed  next  day  in  the  papers,  your  dear  father  was 
so  vexed,  he  wanted  to  go  and  overhaul  the  editor. 
Our  family  could  never  bear  to  see  women  in  print — 
oh  !  we  shall  not  be  able  to  face  the  light  of  day.  It 
is  bad  enough  to  drag  in  this  wretched  Mrs.  Smithson, 
but  imagine  the  outrage  of  saying  Nell's  f-father-in- 
law  married  her  m-mother-in-law  from  the  wash-tub  ! 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  an  abominable  charge  ? " 

"No — o,"  answered  Betty.  "I  always  thought  it 
was  from  a  beauty-show.  The  wash-tub,  now,  seems 
to  me  quite  an  advance  in  the  social  scale.  Mother 
dear,  bear  up.  By  the  time  you  meet  the  people  you 
know  again,  they  will  have  forgotten  all  about  it. 
This  kind  of  pillory  in  print  is  too  common  in  our 
society  to  hurt  anybody  long.  In  next  week's  issue 
of  this  charming  sheet  you  may  no  doubt  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  some  hit  at  the  people  who  this 
week  laugh  at  you.  Here,  see  me  poke  the  wretched 
thing  into  the  hottest  part  of  the  fire ;  and  you  take 
Trix,  and  go  out  for  a  week  to  Lakewood." 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  23 

"But  Nell, —  my  darling,  sensitive  Nell, —  suppose 
she  reads  this  cruel  paragraph." 

"  I  'm  not  in  the  least  afraid  of  Nell  seeing  anything 
but  the  light  that  lies  in  Jerry's  eyes,  for — I  will  give 
her  till  the  end  of  the  honeymoon  before  taking  up 
human  interests  again.  If  Jerry  sees  it,  he  will  prob 
ably  whistle  and  say  a  good  many  bad  words.  If  Mrs. 
Vernon  sees  it,  it  will  do  her  good.  That  kind  of 
woman  needs  a  little  rap  over  the  knuckles  from  time 
to  time,  to  keep  her  in  her  place." 

"  Betty  !  "  said  Mrs.  Halliday.  She  often  felt  that 
there  was  a  sort  of  monotony  in  these  monosyllabic 
rejoinders  to  her  daughter's  trenchant  sentences. 

MRS.  VERNON'S  dinner  was  distinctly  a  success.  To 
meet  Betty  and  Trix  she  had  convened  old  Mr.  Tom 
Halliday,  the  cousin  without  reproach,  who,  it  will  be 
remembered,  had  given  Eleanor  away  at  the  altar; 
Mr.  Theobald,  and  an  extremely  nice  young  South 
erner,  whose  father  had  been  killed  in  the  war,  and 
whose  family  was  supposed  to  go  back  in  an  un 
broken  line  to  William  the  Conqueror,  like  all  other 
Virginians,  present  or  to  come.  To  this  Mr.  Brocken- 
borough  Vyvan,  a  broad-shouldered,  soft- voiced  youth, 
Trix  was  assigned,  and  while  secretly  wondering  where 
Mrs.  Vernon  had  got  him,  the  little  minx  was  taking 
his  measure  and  deciding  that  he  pleased  her,  which, 
happily,  is  all  a  healthy  girl  in  her  first  season  gener 
ally  cares  to  ascertain.  Betty,  going  in  with  Theobald, 
was  eminently  suited  and  almost  amiable.  Old  Tom, 
seated  at  Mrs.  Vernon's  right,  fell  into  a  doze  after 
the  first  entree,  but  waked  up  every  time  the  servant 


24  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

appeared  at  his  elbow  with  a  new  dish,  and,  for  the 
rest,  let  the  widow  talk  in  a  constant  stream — which 
led  her  to  declare  to  his  young  cousins  afterward  that 
he  was  really  one  of  the  most  agreeable  "  dinner  men  " 
in  town. 

The  dining-room,  hung  with  tapestries  and  opening 
into  a  great  conservatory,  the  perfection  of  plate,  por 
celain,  wines,  and  service  were  noteworthy,  even  in 
extravagant  New  York.  Betty,  recalling,  as  under 
such  circumstances  guests  inevitably  will,  the  story 
of  Mrs.  Vernon's  origin,  and  her  recent  struggles  for 
social  recognition,  marveled  at  the  ease,  even  ele 
gance,  with  which  she  now  presided.  She  could  not, 
at  a  bird's-eye  view,  behold  much  difference  between 
this  and  a  similar  dinner  before  the  opera  a  few 
nights  ago,  in  the  penetralia  of  good  society.  She 
remembered  having  heard  some  one  say  that  "poor 
Mrs.  Vernon  had  had  absolutely  no  chance  while  her 
husband  lived — a  crass  vulgarian,  sure  to  put  his  foot 
into  everything  ;  a  typical  American,  like  a  commer 
cial  advertisement  at  the  back  of  a  magazine."  The 
time  lost  in  mourning  him  had  been  spent  by  the 
widow  abroad,  and  in  bringing  up  his  son.  And  it 
was  not  till  Gerald  left  college,  and  got  in  with  the 
mothers  and  sisters  of  his  fashionable  friends,  that 
the  Vernons  actually  came  up  for  notice.  Even  then, 
he  was  invited,  she  ignored.  The  great  fine  house, 
into  which  she  did  not  choose  to  bid  the  half-way 
people  who  would  have  been  glad  to  go,  was  like  a 
prison,  in  dreariness.  Jerry's  men  came  and  went  to 
and  from  his  suite  of  rooms  on  the  third  floor,  but 
never  put  in  an  appearance  in  his  mother's  drawing- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  25 

room.  This,  at  least,  was  what  Betty  Halliday  had 
heard.  She  saw  that  on  the  wave  of  Jerry's  marriage 
into  one  of  the  "  really  good  old  "  families  Mrs.  Yernon 
had  resolved  to  ride  into  the  haven  of  her  hopes.  And 
Betty  could  not  but  admit  that  she  was  doing  this 
thing  with  a  good  deal  of  cleverness. 

"  What  an  exchange  from  our  shabby  house  to  such 
splendor ! "  remarked  Betty,  in  a  low  tone.  "  I  'm 
rather  glad  Nell  is  to  have  a  more  modest  establish 
ment  of  her  own.  One  can  never  keep  up  a  friend 
ship  with  riches  that  slap  you  in  the  face." 

"She  is  the  one  woman  I  ever  saw  who  would 
always,  rich  or  poor,  be  herself/'  Theobald  said,  and 
then,  relapsing  into  his  usual  impassive  manner, 
turned  the  talk  into  another  channel.  "  Speaking  of 
homes,  the  site  of  this  is  where  the  old  Sydney  War- 
dour  house  used  to  stand ;  and  twenty  years  ago  it  was 
a  center  of  hospitality  in  New  York,  and  accounted 
the  height  of  fashion.  How  homely  their  entertain 
ments  would  seem  beside  such  as  these,  and  how 
cramped  their  quarters  !  " 

"  What  has  become  of  the  Sydney  Wardours  ? "  said 
Betty.  "  One  rarely  hears  their  name." 

"  What  has  become  of  all  our  once  prominent  fam 
ilies  of  moderate  wealth  who  are  submerged  in  the 
flood-tide  of  plutocracy?  Either  broken  to  pieces  in 
the  attempt  to  keep  up,  or  the  heads  of  the  families 
dead,  and  the  younger  ones  reduced  to  insignificance." 

"  The  way  we  live  now  certainly  does  n't  incline  one 
to  indifference  to  wealth,"  she  said.  "  The  young  men 
I  know  are  most  of  them  on  the  qui  rive  to  help  along 
their  fortunes  by  a  rich  marriage  ;  and  as  to  the  girls, 


26  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

it  is  no  longer  a  support  they  expect  from  their  hus 
bands,  but  unlimited  opportunity." 

"  Then  it  is  well  a  woman  like  Hildegarde  de  Lancey 
comes  a  cropper  now  and  then,  to  point  a  moral  for 
the  rest." 

"  I  don't  see  what  you  call  coming  a  cropper,"  re 
torted  Betty,  scornfully.  "  She  is  more  in  demand 
than  any  one  I  know — in  the  smart  set,  I  mean.  Old- 
fashioned  people  like  my  mother  hold  up  their  hands, 
but  society — our  society,  the  society — caresses  her, 
and  condones  what  they  are  pleased  to  call  her  mis 
fortunes.  She  is  immensely  in  the  swim.  She  was 
the  bright  star  of  a  dinner  the  other  night  at  the 
Bullions7,  where  six  out  of  the  twelve  guests  are  living 
apart  from  their  legal  partners,  owing  to  infelicities 
too  numerous  to  cite." 

"  By  Jove,  we  are  catching  up  with  Chicago,"  said 
Theobald.  "Did  you  see  the  squib  in  one  of  the 
papers  recently,  where  an  English  traveler  asks  Mrs. 
Lakeside  if  she  has  been  presented  yet  at  court  ?  '  My 
gracious !  yes,  indeed/  she  answers ;  l  every  judge  in 
the  city  knows  me ;  1 7ve  been  divorced  three  times.7 " 

"Tony,  tell  me  something,"  Betty  pursued  more 
gravely.  "  You  must  know  how  people  talk.  Is  there 
any  reason  why  Nell  should — no;  I  can't  ask  you 
here.  But  I  think  we  can  count  upon  you  to  keep  us 
warned.  One  don't  want  to  be  made  a  fool  of  before 
the  world ;  and  you  know  you  always  were  so  fond  of 
Nell." 

Theobald  drank  off  at  a  draught  his  newly  filled 
tazza  of  champagne  before  he  answered,  with  a  laugh  : 

"  I  think  Mrs.  de  Lancey  will  find  it  to  her  advan- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  27 

tage  to  keep  quiet  for  a  while.  Let  us  talk  of  some 
thing  pleasanter — Trix,  for  instance.  That  tete-a-tete 
with  the  athletic  youngster  yonder  does  n't  promise 
well  for  the  chances  of  Mr.  Timothy  Van  Loon." 

"  Oh,  Trix  is  hopelessly  unworldly.  The  Van  Loon 
connection  does  n't  tempt  her  in  the  least.  Timothy, 
as  to  whom,  since  they  got  him  away  from  the  ballet- 
girl  he  wanted  to  marry  in  Paris  a  year  ago,  his  fam 
ily  have  decided  that  he  can't  do  better  than  take  up 
with  one  of  ours,  is  densely  unconscious  of  the  fact 
that  Trix  considers  him  a  booby  and  a  bore.  However, 
we  don't  know  what  a  year's  apprenticeship  to  society 
may  do  for  our  debutante.  She  may  wake  up  to  her 
advantages  in  time." 

"WHAT  a  very  long  name  you  have!"-— Trix  had 
progressed  so  far  as  to  be  saying  to  her  neighbor, 
Mr.  Brockenborough  Vyvan,  whose  dinner-card  her 
eye  had  lighted  upon. 

"  Yes ;  our  hostess  has  given  me  the  full  benefit  of 
it.  It  was  worse  than  that  once.  Reginald  Alfred  I 
was  christened,  after  two  uncles ;  but  the  fellows  at 
college  called  me  Brock,  and  when  I  came  to  New 
York  to  go  into  the  offices  of  Clyde,  Lawrence  & 
Clyde, — they  are  building  Mrs.  Vernon's  new  house  at 
Lenox,  you  know, — I  cut  loose  from  all  the  rest.  I 
was  sent  by  the  firm  once  to  wait  upon  a  millionaire 
client,  a  rough  old  hay-seed,  whom  I  found  studying 
my  card.  '  Look  a-here,  young  feller,'  he  remarked, 
by  way  of  greeting,  'if  you  're  goiii'  to  make  your 
livin'  out  of  us  everage  American  citizens,  take  -my 
advice  and  drop  them  tenderfoot  frills  off  '11  your 


28  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

name.  It  '11  be  worth  many  a  dollar  in  your  pocket, 
if  you  do.7  And  I  did." 

The  girl's  merry  laugh  rang  out. 

"  Which  was  your  university  ? "  she  asked,  helping 
herself  to  something  that  tottered  in  a  silver  dish. 

"  Yale,  of  course/7  he  answered,  with  proud  promp 
titude. 

"Why,  it  can't  be  you  are — of  course  you  are — 
Vyvan,  78-,  the  half-back  that  made  the  famous  run 
at  the  Polo  grounds,  and  won  our  game  against 
Princeton ! 77 

"  Did  you  happen  to  be  there  ? 77 

"  I  should  say  so !  Jack  and  I  were  on  top  of  a 
coach  waving  blue  silk  handkerchiefs ;  and  I  fairly 
shouted  myself  hoarse  for  you.  To  tell  you  the 
honest  truth,  when  I  saw  you  in  that  awfully  dirty 
canvas  jacket  and  trousers,  chewing  gum,  just  before 
you  kicked  the  final  goal,  I  thought  1 7d  rather  know 
you  than  anybody  in  the  world.77 

Vyvan  tingled  with  satisfaction,  to  the  ears. 

"  And  who  is  Jack,  if  I  may  ask  ? 77 

"  In  the  Yale  catalogue,  John  Livingston  Halliday, 
of  the  Freshman  class — my  brother,  and  the  best 
friend  1 7ve  got.77 

"  Yes,  I  know.  He  7s  the  fellow  who  brought  to 
college  from  St.  Peter's  a  reputation  for  rowing,  and 
is  talked  of  as  likely  to  get  a  seat  in  the  bow  of  this 
year's  boat." 

"I  should  say  there  is  no  doubt  of  that,"  said 
Beatrix,  tossing  her  head  complacently.  "Jack  cap 
tained  the  winning  Matlock  six  last  year.  I  wish  you 
could  see  his  arm  muscle.  It  is  very  nice  that  he  is 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE  29 

pleased  with  Yale.  He  really  likes  it  tremendously, 
I  think." 

"Does  he?"  said  the  amused  alumnus. 

"  Oh,  yes.     He  is  pledged  to  <  Hay  Boolay.' " 

"  Ah  ?     That  was  my  l  spot/  too.77 

"Was  it?  I  'm  so  glad.  And  I  'm  hoping  and 
praying  Jack  will  get  into  Sk —  What  Senior  Society 
were  you  in,  Mr.  Vyvan.  ?  Oh  !  What  have  I  said  ? 
I  beg  your  pardon/'  and,  coloring  with  mortification 
at  her  heedless  allusion  to  esoteric  mysteries  never  to 
be  uttered,  she  remained  silent ;  nor  was  serenity  re 
stored  until  Vyvan  led  the  talk  into  a  discussion  of 
the  students'  ball  known  as  the  Junior  Promenade. 

"  She  is  as  fresh  as  a  daisy  in  the  grass/'  reflected 
Brock.  "  I  did  n't  believe  it  possible  of  a  girl  in  soci 
ety  here.  Queer  thing  she  should  have  seen  me  make 
that  run.  But  what  have  I  to  do  with  girls  ?  It  '11 
be  a  long  day  before  I  can  cast  a  second  look  at  any 
of  the  little  dears/'  ended  this  philosopher  of  twenty- 
four. 

"Such  delightful  spirits  has  —  I  suppose  I  may  say 
our  little  cousin  Trix,"  murmured  Mrs.  Vernon,  turn 
ing  to  Theobald.  "  I  was  remarking  only  yesterday 
to  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  that  all  of  the  Halliday  girls  are 
so  very  different,  and  each  so  charming,  so  individual. 
People  will  ask  me  if  Trix  is  going  to  marry  Mr. 
Timothy  Van  Loon.  I  hardly  think  that  fair  to  one 
of  the  family,  do  you  ? " 

Mr.  Theobald  adjusted  his  monocle  in  his  right  eye, 
and  looked  at  his  hostess  narrowly.  He  was  a  delib 
erate  man,  and  her  quick  attack  found  him  without  a 
suitable  reply.  In  his  soul  he  was  saying,  "  She  is  an 


30  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

amazing  woman  j  and,  upon  my  word,  I  believe  she  '11 
win." 

As  for  Coitsin  Tom,  the  old  gentleman  was  already 
captive  to  the  widow's  wines  and  the  excellence  of  her 
cookery.  He  did  not  know  that  her  chef,  who  was 
a  sympathetic  soul  as  well  as  a  master  of  the  art  of 
fencing,  had  composed  the  menu  of  this  little  enter 
tainment  under  the  title  of  a  "  Petit  assaut  d'armes." 
M.  Alcide,  with  the  rest  of  Mrs.  Yemen's  numerous 
retinue,  perfectly  understood  the  conditions  of  the 
case. 

When  they  came  out  from  dinner,  the  men  to  pass 
into  a  Pompeian  smoking-room,  their  hostess  brought 
her  party  to  a  halt  in  a  little  ante-chamber  purposely 
left  in  shadow  theretofore.  There  was  a  general  ex 
clamation  of  surprise.  Facing  each  other  on  the  wall- 
spaces,  hung  full-length  portraits  of  Gerald  and  his 
mother,  the  frames  sunk  in  maroon  draperies  that, 
lighted  with  electricity  above,  gave  the  startling  effect 
of  living  presences  in  the  group. 

"Of  course  you  recognize  the  artist?"  said  Mrs. 
Vernon,  modestly.  "  They  have  but  just  come  home 
from  his  atelier,  and  I  could  not  deny  myself  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  how  they  strike  my  guests." 

"Strike  me?  They  make  me  shiver,"  whispered 
Betty  to  Theobald.  "If  that  man  had  painted  Dr. 
Jekyll,  people  would  have  been  sure  to  see  in  it  the 
monster  Hyde.  They  say  he  employs  a  little  some 
body  with  horns  to  come  up  through  a  trap-door  and 
paint  his  eyes  for  him.  The  frankness  of  these  is 
positively  brutal." 

The  portrait  of  Mrs.  Vernon  represented  that  lady 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  31 

standing  in  a  gown  of  pinkish  mauve  satin,  superbly 
rendered  and  full  of  glancing  lights,  against  a  back 
ground  of  azaleas  of  a  purplish  pink — a  resplendent 
burst  of  color,  and  of  an  originality  in  technic  that 
bespoke  a  master  hand.  But  no  one,  brought  face  to 
face  with  it  for  the  first  time,  could  fail  to  perceive 
the  fatal  note  of  bourgeoisie  it  betrayed — the  audacious 
revelation  of  untamed  savagery  beneath  this  wealth 
of  flaunting  beauty. 

Gerald's  portrait,  on  the  other  hand,  was  his  living, 
breathing  self,  handsome  and  high-bred,  with  the  dash 
of  an  hidalgo  of  old  Spain.  But  Gerald's  mother  was 
not  prepared  for  the  effect  it  was  to  have  on  Trix. 

"  Oh !  no,  no !  "  cried  the  girl,  putting  her  hands 
before  her  eyes.  "  That  is  not  Jerry.  It  is  somebody 
who  has  a  cold  heart,  who  is  violent  and  self-willed, 
and  would  sacrifice  any  one  he  loves.  I  am  sorry  I 
looked  at  it,  to  have  such  a  fancy  get  into  my  head." 

"It  is  the  old  story,"  began  Theobald,  in  the  em 
barrassed  silence  produced  by  Trix's  plain  speaking. 
"Half  the  people  one  knows  are  at  war  with  their 
portraits  sent  home  from  famous  studios.  In  an  age 
that  has  seen  obloquy  cast  on  an  example  of  Meis- 
sonier — " 

But  Mrs.  Vernon  was  not  at  once  to  be  appeased 
by  polite  generalities.  She  was  evidently  ruffled,  and 
in  need  of  tangible  consolation  to  recover  her  usual 
balance. 

Fortunately,  this  was  not  long  in  coming  to  her. 
When  they  reached  the  opera-house,  and  settled  with 
the  fashionable  swan-like  pose  into  their  chairs,  Betty 
Halliday,  who  was  in  a  line  with  Mrs.  Vernon — Trix, 


32  SWEET  BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

rosy  and  brilliant,  between  the  two — found  herself  in 
the  box  adjoining  that  of  the  social  autocrat,  Mrs. 
Van  Shuter,  known  to  the  scoffers  in  the  parquet  as 
one  of  the  "  chatterboxes  "  in  the  parterre.  Poor  Mrs. 
Vernon,  whose  money  had  not  yet  purchased  for  her 
the  right  to  disturb  her  neighbors  with  vapid  con 
versation,  had  hitherto  been  obliged  to  remain  in  de 
pressing  silence  through  long  evenings  of  metaphys 
ics  set  to  music.  In  despair  she  had  secured  a  score, 
and  tried  to  pose  as  a  virtuosa  in  Wagner's  music ; 
but  the  effort  proved  too  fatiguing,  and  she  gave  it 
up.  Thus,  she  had  returned  to  the  privilege  of  study 
ing  every  crease  and  surge  of  the  fat  Van  Shuter  back 
as  it  appeared  overlapping  a  tightly  laced  corsage ; 
the  clasps  of  the  various  Van  Shuter  necklaces ;  the 
thin,  flaxen  Van  Shuter  hair,  strained  up  over  a  pink 
ish  cranium,  and  surmounted  by  plumes  and  jewels. 
All  these  were  familiar  spectacles,  but  she  could  not 
truthfully  aver  that  she  had  seen  the  near  front  of  the 
lady  who  sat  through  the  opera-season  like  Buddha, 
vast,  placid,  twinkling  with  gems,  satisfied  to  exist 
and  to  let  herself  be  worshiped.  During  the  weeks 
past,  Mrs.  Vernon  had  vicariously  enjoyed  reports, 
vouchsafed  by  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  to  her  visitors,  of 
Mrs.  Van  Shuter's  attack  of  grippe,  of  Mr.  Van 
Shuter's  attack  of  grippe,  and  of  the  inroads  of  grippe 
on  the  constitution  of  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's  confidential 
maid. 

" l  Dawson,'  said  I,"  had  floated  in  from  the  great 
lady's  box,  " '  if,  when  you  first  begin  to  sneeze,  you 
will  clap  a  porous  plaster  on  37our  chest,  grease  your 
nose  with  mutton  tallow,  and  take  ten  grains  of  qui- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  33 

nine,  you  will  certainly  feel  better  the  next  day.7  But 
Dawson  was  obstinate,  and  the  result  was  what  you 
know." 

This  much,  even,  had  Mrs.  Vernon  been  allowed  to 
overhear — but  alas !  not  as  one  privileged  to  sorrow 
with  the  sufferer.  It  would  have  been  so  sweet  to 
breathe  sympathy  for  Dawson  into  the  ear  of  Daw- 
son's  mistress ! 

To-night,  things  were  different.  When  Mrs.  Vernon, 
wearing  the  renowned  tiara,  faultlessly  gowned  in 
modest  pearl-color,  appeared  before  the  eyes  of  the 
multitude,  leading  old  New  York  in  chains,  many  ob 
servers  took  note  of  it,  and  resolved  to  leave  on  the 
morrow  their  tardy  cards  at  Mrs.  Vernon's  door.  Mrs. 
Floyd-Curtis,  herself  a  lady  recently  promoted,  men 
tally  booked  the  widow  for  a  dinner  three  weeks  off. 
And,  better  than  all,  the  ample  bulk  of  the  Idol  turned 
slowly  upon  its  satin-cushioned  pivot,  and  Mrs.  Van 
Shuter  actually  nodded  and  smiled  toward  Mrs.  Ver 
non's  box. 

"  You  have  not  dined  with  me  this  year,"  she  said  to 
old  Tom  Halliday.  To  Theobald,  over  Betty's  shoulder, 
"  When  are  you  coining  to  finish  our  nice  talk  about 
German  baths?  You  are  looking  badly,  and  I  wish 
you  would  try  my  little  Doctor  Bangs.  He  has  done 
Mr.  Van  Shuter  good,  and  he  is  doing  Dawson  good." 
Then  to  Betty,  graciously,  "  You  have  heard  from  your 
sister  ?  Florida,  I  am  told.  It  was  in  Florida  I  caught 
the  cold  that  lasted  till  after  Easter  of  last  year — in 
our  own  car,  really.  Who  is  the  young  man  with 
Trix?  Somebody  brought  him  to  my  party  before 
the  last — yes,  Vyvan,  I  remember;  I  shall  have  him 
3 


34  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

written  in  The  Book,  and — you  may  present  Mrs. 
Veriion  to  me,  if  yon  like,  my  dear." 

A  few  off-hand  words  from  Betty,  and  the  deed 
was  done.  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  lifted  her  heavy  eyelids, 
ducked  her  double  chin ;  Mrs.  Vernon's  color  rose,  and 
her  tiara  tipped  forward.  Mrs.  Vernon  had  crossed 
the  Rubicon.  Dick  Henderson  and  Freddy  de  Witt 
rehearsed  it  afterward  at  the  club,  and  a  number  of 
lorgnons  took  in  the  fact.  But  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's 
condescension  did  not  stop  at  this. 

"  Your  mother  got  the  notice  of  the  meeting  at  my 
house  on  Friday  of  next  week  ? "  she  asked  of  Betty. 
"  Tell  her  I  count  on  her.  There  are  so  many  coming 
who  won't  signify.  It  is  to  be  a  talk  from  that  Mrs. 
Duncombe,  the  new  woman  who  has  had  such  success 
with  the  lower  classes." 

"What  does  she  do  to  the  lower  classes?"  Betty 
inquired. 

"Oh!  er — everything;  it  is  a  scheme  for  making 
working- women  understand  their  legal  rights  against 
their  husbands." 

"I  should  think  her  chief  trouble  would  be  from 
the  married  couples  between  whom  she  interferes." 

"Eh?  oh  !  She  says  with  a  Fund  an  immense  deal 
may  be  done.  I  made  her  understand  that  I  can't  be 
looked  to  to  give  money,  with  all  I  have  to  do.  But 
I  said  they  may  meet  first  in  my  Empire  room,  and  I 
let  Miss  Thompson  write  the  notices." 

"  I  suppose  we  shall  know,  when  we  get  there,  what 
it  is  all  about,"  said  Betty,  fearlessly. 

"  Yes,  certainly.  There  are  to  be  flowers  distributed 
among  the  poor,  in  pots — with  little  pamphlets  revised 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT    OF   TUNE  37 

by  lawyers.  Perhaps  Mrs. —  ah — Vernon  would  like 
to  come.  If  she  would  like  to  come,  I  don't  mind  tell 
ing  Miss  Thompson  to  write  a  card  for  her." 

«  She  might  j  I  don't  know,"  said  Betty.  "  She  's 
awfully  rich,  and  very  generous.  But  I  very  much 
doubt  her  going  unless  you  first  call  on  her." 

A  surprised  look  made  itself  manifest  upon  the 
Idol's  large  pink  face.  But,  then,  everybody  in  town 
knows  it  was  pains  thrown  away  to  be  affronted  by 
Betty  Halliday. 

"  But  you  know,  my  dear,  I  never  go  in  anywhere. 
And  my  first  footman,  James,  engaged  with  me  never 
to  leave  the  box  to  ring  a  bell,  except  in  an  emer 
gency." 

"Tell  James  this  is  a  very  great  emergency.  I 
think,  if  you  're  economically  inclined,  you  '11  find  it 
pay,"  said  Betty  Halliday,  by  whom  it  was  pains 
thrown  away  to  feel  affronted. 


Ill 


ELL,"  said  Gerald,  who  was  sitting 
by  his  wife  on  the  veranda  of  a 
Florida  hotel,  "I  never  told  yon 
that,  as  we  drove  away  from  the 
house  the  day  of  the  wedding  to 
cateh  the  Southern  train — yon  know 
it  had  begun  to  rain — I  saw  Tony  Theobald  striding 
around  the  corner  without  an  umbrella,  and  his  face 
as  black  as  thunder.  Queer  Dick,  is  Theobald.  Don't 
suppose  he  'd  been  having  a  row  with  anybody,  do 
you?" 

"  Oh,  impossible,"  said  Nell. 

She  had  her  lap  full  of  spring  flowers,  had  been 
awakened  by  a  mocking-bird  trilling  on  the  bough  of 
an  orange- tree  that  swept  her  window,  was  breathing 
softest  air,  looking  under  a  blue  Italian  sky  across  the 
sparkling  wavelets  of  a  lovely  lake.  Gerald  was  at 
her  side,  heaven  in  her  heart.  She  dismissed  the 
subject  of  Theobald  as  she  had  all  other  clouds  that 
drifted  across  the  azure  of  her  empyrean. 

"  Suppose  we  go  out  on  the  water,"  Gerald  proposed 
after  a  lazy  silence. 

"Delicious.  It  is  what  I  like  best.  Shall  you 
row?" 

"No;  let 's  have  one  of  those  black  fellows, — one 
38 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT    OF   TUNE  39 

who  sings, —  and  loaf  along  till  we  feel  like  landing. 
What  are  you  going  in  for  ? " 

"To  get  parasol  and  gloves,  of  course.  Anything 
you  want  ? " 

"  Seems  to  me  we  might  as  well  have  left  that  pair 
of  menials  at  home,  for  all  the  waiting  on  we  get/' 
said  Gerald.  "  My  man,  when  he  's  not  smoking  my 
cigarettes,  is  asleep  •  and  your  Swede  sits  reading  Sea 
side  Libraries  when  she  is  n't  at  her  meals." 

"  Do  you  know,  Gerald,  there  's  something  a  little 
queer  about  that  girl.  She  told  me  last  night,  when 
she  was  brushing  out  my  hair,  that  she  thinks  Florida 
is  stupid ;  that  is  to  say,  not  stupid,  but  that  there 
is  a  great  deal  of  sand  here,  and  the  negroes  and  alli 
gators  are  very  much  alike.  Fancy  finding  Florida 
stupid ! " 

"  Well,  if  the  woman  has  nothing  to  do,  and  nobody 
to  make  love  to  her,  perhaps  the  situation  is  different 
hi  her  eyes.  I  'm  afraid  Hughes  is  a  confirmed  old 
bachelor ;  besides,  he  had  a  breach-of -promise  suit  in 
England  once,  and  won't  look  at  a  woman  since." 

"  Jerry,  that  reminds  me,  before  I  go — there 's  time 
enough,  is  n't  there  ? " 

"  Bless  yon,  yes.  There  's  as  much  time  as  there  is 
sand,  in  Florida." 

"Now  that  you  have  spoken  about  your  valet — I 
don't  like  to  seem  suspicious,  but,  really,  there  was 
rather  a  strange  thing  happened  yesterday.  You 
know,  when  the  breeze  fell,  and  you  were  kept  out 
fishing  with  those  men  so  much  longer  than  you  ex 
pected,  I  got  a  little  nervous  and  fussy,  and  I  went 
into  your  room  and  began  turning  over  the  things  on 


40  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

your  dressing-table.  I  found  there  the  necktie  I  like 
so  much, —  the  dark  blue  with  the  white  speckles  that 
you  >d  taken  off  when  you  changed  to  flannels, — and, 
just  to  comfort  myself  a  little,  I — I  —  " 

"  Well — you — you  — " 

"  I  kissed  it ;  and,  happening  to  look  in  the  glass,  I 
saw  behind  me  Hughes,  who  had  come  into  the  room 
in  that  noiseless  way  of  his — " 

"That  7s  his  specialty;  commands  extra  wages 
always.  And  Hughes  did  what?" 

"  Oh,  he  did  nothing  j  but  I  caught  an  expression 
in  his  eye  that  I  thought  strange  and  sinister.  When 
I  turned  around,  rather  sharply  for  me,  he  begged  par 
don,  and  did  I  know  that  the  sail-boat  was  in  sight  ? 
Of  course  this  was  a  trifling  circumstance,  but  I  could 
not  mistake  that  very  peculiar  look — " 

"Nell,  I  Ve  a  secret  to  tell  you.  You  are  a  little 
gull.  Hughes  is  the  salt  of  the  earth,  as  valets  go ; 
supports  an  old  mother  in  England,  and  all  that  ;  and 
— now  you  're  going  to  be  furious — I  Ve  seen  that 
expression  on  his  face  a  thousand  times, — it 's  when 
he  's  trying  to  hold  in  a  laugh ! " 

"  Jerry,  I  did  n't  think  you  could  be  so  mean.  If 
we  're  to  be  spied  upon,  I  wish  we  'd  left  Hughes  and 
Elsa  in  New  York.  Ever  since  old  Norah  had  rheu 
matism  I  Ve  waited  on  myself ;  and  1 'm  always  think 
ing  how  I  should  love  to  lay  out  your  things  for  you." 

"  If  you  say  so,  I  '11  send  'em  both  out  in  a  leaky 
boat,  and  swamp  them  in  the  lake  j  though  it  would 
be  easier  to  ship  them  home  by  train.  Only,  if  we  do, 
we  '11  be  guyed  awfully.  As  you  are  passing  the  desk, 
ask  if  the  post  is  in." 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  41 

"  O  Jerry,  we  don't  want  any  letters,  and  I  have  n't 
looked  at  a  paper  since  the  day  after  the  wedding, 
when  I  saw  those  two  nightmares  purporting  to  be  us, 
between  a  member  of  the  rogues'  gallery  and  some 
body  who  makes  three-dollar  shoes." 

"  Well,  they  have  done  with  us  now.  We  are  back 
numbers,  and  not  wanted  at  any  price.  We  may  as 
well  enjoy  the  woes  of  our  successors.  When  I  went 
to  school  in  England  a  little  American  chap  turned 
up  who  wrote  to  his  governor  in  London :  '  Dear 
Father :  If  you  don't  take  me  away,  I  '11  run  away. 
Every  fellow  in  the  school  has  kicked  me  since  I 
came  ! '  At  the  end  of  a  week  he  wrote  again :  i  Dear 
Father:  I  like  it  better  than  I  did.  A  new  fellow 
came  to-day,  and  we  've  all  kicked  him ! ' ' 

It  was  three  weeks  after  the  legitimate  ending  of 
the  honeymoon,  and  they  had  been  knocking  around 
Florida,  shunning  the  haunts  of  men  and  the  beaten 
tracks  of  travel.  For  a  time  it  had  seemed  as  if  they 
would  need  an  eternity  of  isolation  in  which  merely  to 
discuss  their  reminiscences  of  meeting  and  falling  in 
love.  They  took  into  the  woods  books  and  magazines, 
and  read  them  upside  down ;  invented  childish  devices 
to  test  and  fathom  their  love  for  each  other ;  spent 
hours  in  profound  analyses  and  glorifications  of  each 
other,  as  to  character  and  qualities.  Gerald  was  aston 
ished  and,  to  his  credit  be  it  said,  delighted  with  the 
crystal  purity  and  grand  directness  of  his  wife's  na 
ture.  He  had  never  imagined  a  woman  like  her,  and 
told  himself  that  he  would  forever  worship  this  Brun- 
hilda  as  she  deserved.  And  every  day  Eleanor's  heart, 
shy  and  a  little  slow  to  expand  in  the  new  relation, 


42  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

grew  to  a  broader  understanding  of  and  a  greater 
reverence  for  the  marriage  bond.  She  thought  of  her 
mother's  loss  of  a  noble  husband  with  new  tears  and 
with  self-reproach  that  she  had  not  bestowed  on  it 
enough  of  tender  sympathy.  Poor  darling  mama! 
To  have  had  and  lost,  to  have  borne  such  anguish 
and  survived  it ! 

Eleanor's  mind  roved  continually  over  the  field  of 
her  acquaintance,  trying  to  understand  the  apparent 
indifference  to  each  other  of  most  husbands  and  wives, 
the  sharp  words,  the  strained  civilities,  the  perpetual 
friction  upon  minor  points.  She  recalled  how  she 
had  heard  women  fashion  their  own  matrimonial  dif 
ferences  into  witty  stories  for  the  amusement  of  their 
listeners.  How  could  it  be  that  this  had  seemed  to 
her  merely  a  matter  of  poor  taste;  had  repelled  her 
only  because  of  her  constitutional  reserve  and  horror 
of  public  comment  ?  Now,  it  was  as  if  a  guardian  of 
the  holy  of  holies  had  seen  some  rude  hand  laid  upon 
his  treasure ;  she  felt  profaned,  outraged,  by  the 
memory  of  things  heard  which  she  for  the  first  time 
understood. 

Jerry,  who,  we  may  be  sure,  received  his  full  share 
of  the  outpourings  of  her  heart  upon  these  themes, 
was  startled  at  her  vehemence.  The  daily  efflores 
cence  of  her  beauty  in  her  great  love  laid  hold  on  and 
bewitched  him  utterly.  Compared  with  the  other 
women  he  had  known,  she  was  unique.  Over  and 
over  again,  when  tempted  to  give  some  light  answer 
to  what  he  inwardly  styled  "  her  impossible  theories," 
he  was  silenced  by  her  lofty  soul  looking  from  its 
windows  into  his.  He  had  a  vague  sense  that  he  was 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  43 

ashamed  to  lay  bare  before  such  a  gaze  what  his  real 
man  contained  of  unbelief  and  materialism  on  these 
points.  And  every  now  and  again  there  crept  into 
his  mind  a  feeble  wish  that  his  wife  would  be  a  little 
less  intense. 

But  she  did  not  come  back  to  him,  after  never  so 
brief  an  absence,  that  his  admiration  was  not  stirred ; 
and  when  she  now  returned,  holding  a  sheaf  of  letters, 
and  standing  beside  him  to  distribute  them,  the  light 
touch  of  her  garments  thrilled  him  tenderly  as  he  sat 
looking  up  into  the  morning  freshness  of  her  face. 

"  One  from  mama,  one  from  Trix  •  all  these  for  you, 
but  only  one  that  looks  a  bit  interesting — a  Florida 
postmark,  a  swell  envelope,  and  crest.  Why,  Jerry, 
who  has  found  us  out?" 

"It  7s  a  bore  this  getting  letters,  as  you  say,"  he 
answered,  thrusting  his  batch  into  his  breast-pocket, 
without  noticing  her  question.  "  Shall  I  take  yours 
too  ?  Of  course  you  Ve  no  pocket  in  that  stunning 
tailor-made  thing ;  but  I  forgive  you,  for  it  fits  like  a 
glove.  Come,  now,  the  day  is  well  along." 

Hughes  rallied  to  the  effort  of  spreading  a  rug  in 
the  bottom  of  the  boat,  and  saw  them  off  most  affably 
— Nell,  in  her  "tailor-made  thing"  of  old-rose  cloth 
picked  out  with  silver,  making,  under  her  big  hat,  a 
picture  her  lazy  lord  was  satisfied  to  scan  to  the  exclu 
sion  of  Floridian  scenery.  A  handsome  negro,  like 
the  Farnese  Hercules  in  bronze, — who  reminded  them 
also  of  Tamagno  in  "Otello," — his  pink  cotton  shirt 
open  to  show  his  massive  chest,  his  eyeballs  and  ivo 
ries  flashing  good-fellowship — handled  the  oars.  Over 
a  sheet  of  rippled  blue,  broken  here  and  there  by  the 


44  SWEET   BELLS   OUT    OF   TUNE 

snout  of  a  traveling  'gator,  and  ringed  with  tropic 
foliage  springing  from  golden  sands,  they  dawdled 
idly,  until  the  increasing  vigor  of  the  orb  of  day  caused 
Jerry  to  break  into  irreverent  quotation : 

The  sun's  perpendicular  heat 
Illumines  the  depths  of  the  sea, 
And  the  fishes  "beginning  to — 

"  Not  another  word/7  said  Nell.  "  You  rob  the  hour 
of  its  sentiment.  Let  us  go  ashore  at  yonder  point. 
I  know  a  wood  that  is  like  the  one  wherein  the  poet 
dreamed  of  fair  women ; 

"  There  is  no  motion  in  the  dumb  dead  air, 
Nor  any  song  of  bird  or  sound  of  rill." 

Their  way  led  through  the  aisle  of  an  orange-grove, 
its  darkly  shining  leafage  starred  with  white  blossoms, 
and  dotted  with  golden  globes.  Here  and  there  a  rain 
of  Cherokee  rose  petals  fell  upon  their  path.  An  in 
toxicating  fragrance  filled  the  air  to  oppression,  and 
clung  to  their  hair  and  clothes.  It  was  a  relief  to 
pass  out  into  the  dim  wood  beyond,  and  to  rest  on  the 
grassless  border  of  a  still  pool,  as  green  as  jade  stone, 
an  almost  perfect  circle,  and  exquisitely  clear.  Here, 
seated  upon  the  rug,  Jerry  smoking  a  cigarette  at  her 
feet,  Eleanor  read  her  home  letters,  tasting  them  lei 
surely,  and  putting  them  back  into  their  envelopes 
with  a  loving  touch. 

"  Those  dear  people !  How  good  and  sweet  they 
are,  and  yet,  somehow,  their  letters  seem  to  draw  me 
back  into  that  busy  selfish  world  we  have  been  trying 
to  forget.  Jerry,  it  is  your  turn  now.  Open  your 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  45 

budget,  and  while  you  are  busy,  I  '11  finish  this  story 
I  began  nearly  six  weeks  ago." 

"  I  call  it  playing  it  pretty  low  down  on  an  author 
to  take  him  along  for  honeymoon  literature,"  Jerry 
said,  making  no  motion  to  obey. 

"  Read,  Jerry  dear  •  read  your  letters.  Perhaps 
there  is  something  in  them  to  entertain  me  with." 

Gerald  laughed  a  little  constrainedly. 

"  The  serpent  has  entered  Eden.  Confess,  Nell,  that 
you  are  dying  of  curiosity  about  the  one  with  a  Flor 
ida  postmark,  in  a  man's  hand  that  you  don't  recog 
nize,  bearing  a  crest  you  never  saw." 

"Coming  so  soon  after  that  mysterious  telegram 
that  Hughes  brought  you  yesterday,  that  seemed  to 
worry  you,  and  that  you  tore  into  little  bits  and 
dropped  into  the  lake — have  n't  I  good  right  to  be 
suspicious  ? " 

"  Why,  did  n't  I  tell  you?"  he  said,  sitting  upright 
and  speaking  rapidly,  while  devoting  himself  to  pick 
ing  bits  of  moss  and  earth  from  his  trousers.  "  That 
telegram  was  from  an  old  friend  of  mine  who  's  down 
here  in  his  yacht — man  I  saw  last,  strangely  enough, 
when  we  parted  at  Tangier,  where  we  'd  come  in  with 
a  camel-train  from  Fez.  You  must  do  Tangier  with 
me  next  year,  Nell,  after  we  Ve  finished  Spain.  Won 
derful  country  Morocco  is,  though  you  'd  no  doubt 
like  Spain  better — " 

"And  what  is  the  old  friend's  name,  Jerry,  for  I  sup 
pose  he  has  one,  although  you  neglect  to  mention  it  f " 

"Best  fellow  in  the  world — not  a  lady's  man  ex 
actly,  and  I  'm  not  quite  sure  how  you  and  he  will  hit 
it  off,"  he  answered  airily.  "But  he  's  the  kind  of 


46  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

fellow  I  should  n't  like  to  offend — was  married  a  year 
or  so  ago  to  the  surprise  of  all  his  friends,  and  they  're 
down  here  at  a  bungalow  he  owns.  The  fact  is,  his 
wife — well,  I  'm  not  sure  you  and  she  would  hit  it 
off,"  Jerry  repeated  flatly,  and  conscious  of  the  same. 

"  Oh,  you  foolish  boy,  as  if  I  don't  see  you  are  try 
ing  to  hide  something.  Why  on  earth  don't  you  tell 
me  who  it  is  ? " 

"  This  is  his  letter  in  my  pocket.  The  letter  said 
the  telegram  would  follow, — no,  I  mean  the  telegram 
said  the  letter  would  follow, —  so  I  was  expecting  it, 
you  see.  His  wife  has  egged  him  on,  no  doubt ;  they  're 
dead  set  on  getting  us  to  visit  them,  and,  hang  me,  if 
I  see  how  I  can  get  out  of  it,  considering  I  'm  under 
tremendous  obligations  to  Shafto  in  the  past — " 

"  Shafto  ? "  said  Eleanor,  also  sitting  upright,  a  flush 
coming  into  her  face.  "Not  the  man  who  married 
that  dreadful  Mrs.  King?" 

"  Well,  if  it  comes  to  that,"  answered  Gerald,  a  little 
resentful  of  her  tone,  "  she  was,  when  he  married  her, 
in  exactly  the  same  position  as  Mrs.  Clare  and  Mrs. 
Lovell  and  Mrs.  Luddington ;  all  separated  from  their 
husbands  and  married  again  with  the  sanction  of  holy 
church.  I  don't  claim  that  Mrs.  Shafto  is  a  nice  woman 
exactly,  but  the  world  has  no  right  to  accept  the  others 
and  taboo  her." 

"  That  Mrs.  King !  "  repeated  Eleanor,  with  a  cold 
horror  in  her  voice.  "  Why,  when  the  papers  were 
filled  every  day  with  her  divorce  suit,  my  mother 
burned  them  all,  rather  than  let  her  children  or  ser 
vants  come  upon  them.  The  worst  of  it  was,  Mrs. 
King  is  a  sort  of  relative  or  protegee  of  our  old  Aunt 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  47 

Penf old,  who  refused  to  believe  anything  against  her  • 
but  my  mother  got  up  once  and  left  a  room  when 
Mrs.  King  came  into  it.  Mama  says  she  is  an  outrage 
on  society." 

Poor  Nell,  who  had  unconsciously  committed  the 
commonest  error  in  tact  of  youthful  wives,  was  quite 
taken  aback  by  the  vexed  note,  despite  its  attempt  at 
pleasantry,  of  Gerald's  answer : 

"  I  should  think  a  woman  of  the  world  would  want 
to  receive  her  ideas  of  such  things  from  her  husband, 
rather  than  hold  on  to  the  antiquated  notions  admin 
istered  to  her  with  schoolroom  pap." 

"Oh,  but,  Jerry  dear,"  she  persisted  archly,  "is  n't  it 
borne  in  on  you  by  this  time  that  I  mean  never  to  be 
a  woman  of  the  world  ? n 

But  Jerry  refused  to  smile.  It  was  not  only  that 
he  felt  strongly  the  usual  objection  of  his  sex  to  oppo 
sition  in  any  form  from  hers;  but  the  annoyance 
of  Shafto's  telegram  had  culminated  in  the  receipt 
of  this  letter,  about  which  he  had  foreseen  that  un 
pleasant  complications  were  likely  to  ensue. 

"  All  the  same,  Nell,  your  mother  belongs  to  another 
world  than  yours  and  mine,  now ;  and  sooner  or  later 
you  '11  come  to  recognize  the  fact.  As  long  as  I  'm 
with  you,  and  sanction  it,  it  can  do  no  harm  for  you 
to  mix  a  little  with  the  friskies ;  and  in  a  case  like  this 
it 's  a  good  work  disguised,  you  know." 

He  had  suppressed  his  first  flash  of  resentment,  and 
Eleanor  longed  with  all  her  heart  to  win  back  his 
smiles  by  acquiescence.  But  the  stern  stuff  that  had 
come  down  to  her  from  a  long  line  of  Puritan  ances 
tors  would  admit  of  no  tampering  with  conscience. 


48  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  Jerry  darling,"  she  said  pleadingly,  "you  know — 
I  don't  need  to  repeat  it — that  it  would  be  a  joy  to 
me  to  please  you  in  this  thing ;  but,  indeed,  it  would 
do  no  good ;  every  instinct  within  me  rebels  against 
such  society.  It  don't  amuse  me  ;  and  1 7m  no  actor 
to  cover  what  I  feel.  It  is  n't  that  I  pretend  to  sit  in 
judgment  on  them  or  any  one.  But,  if  you  love  me, 
don't  spoil  our  life  by  bringing  me  into  relations  with 
that  kind  of  people." 

"  l  That  kind  of  people  ! ' "  said  her  husband,  angrily. 
"  I  wonder  if  it  occurs  to  you  that  my  habits  are  made, 
my  friends  chosen — that  I  can't  throw  over  old  chums 
because  they  're  not  up  to  the  Halliday  standard." 

"  Why,  Jerry !  "  the  girl  said,  in  pained  accents.  So 
suddenly  had  their  difference  arisen,  she  could  hardly 
believe  her  ears. 

Gerald's  eyes,  fixed  upon  hers  in  displeasure,  filled 
her  with  dismay.  And,  withal,  she  had  the  feeling 
one  experiences  in  watching  a  pettish  child  in  the 
process  of  "  working  himself  up."  The  whole  matter 
seemed  too  far  beneath  their  love  thus  to  imperil  it. 
Denied  the  privilege  of  a  weaker  woman  of  melting 
easily — and,  at  this  stage  of  married  life,  effectively 
— into  tears,  she  sat  in  silence,  while  he  strolled  to 
some  distance  from  the  spot. 


IV 


0  all  appearance,  Eleanor  had  hardly 
moved  since  Gerald  left  her,  when 
he  hurried  back. 

"I  think  you  had  better  come 
now,"  he  said  in  a  constrained  voice. 
"  The  wind  is  getting  up,  and  it  is 
no  fun  pulling  across  these  lakes  in  the  teeth  of  a 
blow." 

They  found  the  negro  curled  fast  asleep  in  the  boat 
hauled  up  on  the  beach,  and,  when  aroused,  he  looked 
critically  at  the  sky  and  water. 

"I  dunno,  boss,  how  I  kem  to  oversleep,"  he  said. 
"Reckon  7t  was  dancin'  wid  dem  hotel  gals  at  de 
breakdown  till  sun-up  dis  mornin'.  I  'se  jes  got  to 
row  f er  all  I  'se  wuth  to  git  you  an'  de  lady  roun'  dat 
p'int." 

a  We  7re  all  right,"  Jerry  answered,  with  new  anima 
tion  in  his  tone.    Stripping  off  his  flannel  coat,  loosen 
ing  his  shirt  at  the  neck,  and  tossing  aside  his  cap,  he 
placed  Nell  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  which  the  negro 
had  run   swiftly  down   the   diamond  sand  into  the 
water,  and,  when  they  took  their   places,  possessed 
himself  of  a  pair  of  oars,  and  the  seat  nearer  his  wife. 
Without   further  warning  the  lake  now  whipped 
4  49 


50  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

itself  into  an  angry  sea.  The  cumbrous  boat,  labor 
ing  against  a  wind  so  chilled  and  fierce  that  it  might 
have  caressed  an  iceberg  on  the  way,  cut  the  waves 
briskly.  Jerry,  no  longer  the  faineant  of  the  morning, 
alert,  vigilant,  prodigal  of  his  great  strength,  his  bare 
head  rough,  his  brown  cheeks  reddened,  his  eye  gleam 
ing,  moved  his  shoulders  and  steel-strung  arms  with 
the  swing  of  a  perfect  machine.  The  negro,  to  whose 
experience  hitherto  it  had  not  fallen  to  entertain  the 
ex-stroke  of  a  'varsity  crew  unawares,  gaped  in  open- 
mouthed  admiration,  trying  to  conform  his  slouching 
methods  to  Jerry's  science.  Eleanor,  powdered  with 
spray,  disheveled  by  wind,  huddled  under  her  rug 
almost  as  excited  as  was  the  bow-oar.  Sorrow  ban 
ished,  her  heart  swelled  with  pride  in  her  gallant, 
beautiful  young  mate.  No  thought  of  danger  assailed 
her  with  Jerry  to  the  fore.  She  rejoiced  in  the  mad 
bout  against  wind  and  waves.  When,  finally,  they 
pulled  in  to  the  hotel-landing,  and  Jerry  hoisted  her 
upon  the  wharf  from  the  little  bobbing  craft,  she  was 
too  happy  to  notice  at  once  the  anxious  faces  gathered 
there,  peering  at  a  sail-boat  far  out  upon  the  lake. 

"It  's  a  boy,  the  son  of  the  widow  stopping  at  the 
hotel.  She  's  out  driving,  and  knows  nothing.  All 
the  other  rowboats  are  away  with  a  big  party  to 
Heron  Bluffs.  He  's  a  green  hand,  an'  '11  swamp,  sure 
as  a  gun." 

These  bits  of  information,  afforded  by  one  and  an 
other  of  the  group  of  watchers,  had  but  reached  Elea 
nor's  understanding,  when  she  saw  Gerald  with  a  quick 
glance  at  the  situation  make  ready  to  reembark. 

"Who  '11  come  out  with  me — "  Jerry  had  begun, 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE  51 

and  the  big  boatman  had  answered,  "I  'se  yo'  man, 
boss.  1 'se  good  f er  it,  if  you  is/'  when  a  flying  form 
came  down  the  path  from  the  hotel.  It  was  the  boy's 
mother,  her  face  gray  with  terror,  her  lips  hardly  able 
to  frame  a  question.  With  instinctive  tenderness, 
Eleanor  put  an  arm  around  the  poor  creature's  waist, 
and  allowed  the  agonized  face  to  hide  itself  upon  her 
breast  as  the  boat  pushed  off. 

She  got  no  good-by  from  her  husband.  He  was 
rowing  for  dear  life,  and  yet  it  seemed  intolerably 
slow  progress  to  the  lookers-on,  who  alternately 
watched  his  boat  and  the  little  reeling  speck  of  white 
out  on  the  yeasty  water,  under  which  they  could 
plainly  see  a  slight  figure  crouched  against  the  mast. 

IT  was  over  at  last,  the  ordeal  of  waiting.  Eleanor, 
who  had  closed  her  eyes  and  tightened  her  clasp 
around  the  stranger  in  her  arms,  heard  shout  after 
shout  from  the  watchers  announce  that  the  lad  was 
saved. 

"  Here  you  are,  youngster,"  Jerry  said,  later,  thrust 
ing  the  dripping  boy  into  his  mother's  embrace. 
"  None  the  worse  for  your  little  adventure,  if  I  have  n't 
made  your  head  ache  tugging  at  that  tousled  yellow 
mop.  For  Heaven's  sake,  Nell,  come  along,"  he  added, 
sotto  voce,  shaking  himself  like  a  water-dog  to  get  rid 
at  once  of  the  wet,  the  pagans  of  lookers-on,  and  the 
hysterical  blessings  of  the  mother.  "All  this  fuss 
about  a  pull  such  as  I  have  often  taken  on  rough 
water  and  in  greater  danger;  it  was  nothing.  But 
we  timed  it  well,  I  must  say,  for  the  kid's  boat  cap 
sized  just  as  we  reached  the  spot." 


52  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

Nevertheless,  when  they  were  alone  in  their  own 
room,  Eleanor,  who  had  kept  down  her  feelings,  cast 
herself  with  sudden  fervor  upon  her  husband's  neck. 

"  Hullo  !  "  said  Jerry,  good-humoredly. 

"  Oh,  my  own  glorious  darling !  "  she  cried.  "  How 
could  there  have  been  a  shadow  between  our  hearts  ? 
Jerry,  I  don't  believe  I  ever  knew  what  love  is,  till 
now ! » 


DON'T  mind  telling  you,  Nell,"  Ger 
ald  said  the  day  following  his  ad 
venture  in  the  boat,  "that  Shafto, 
who  is  the  most  generous  fellow  liv 
ing,  came  to  my  aid  once  when  I  was 
in  the  biggest  kind  of  a  scrape  in 
Paris — hauled  me  out  of  it,  set  me  on  my  feet,  saved 
me  from  having  to  appeal  to  my  mother,  who  was 
already  cutting  up  pretty  rough  about  my  extrava 
gance,  et  cetera.  Would  n't  take  thanks,  much  less 
money — though  I  've  squared  that  since — bound  me 
over  never  to  mention  his  name  in  the  aifair.  And 
how  was  I  to  say  a  downright  no  to  anything  lie  asked 
me—" 

"Don't  speak  of  it,  dearest,"  she  cried,  growing  pale 
at  the  memory  of  their  brief  estrangement.  "It  's 
I  who  was  silly  not  to  divine.  What  does  anything 
matter  if  we  love  and  understand  each  other  ?  There, 
give  me  his  note  again.  On  Thursday,  by  the  11.30 
train  to  Badajoz,  he  says,  to  stay  till  Monday  after 
noon.  Jerry,  it 's  all  settled,  of  course,  dear.  As  you 
say,  we  must  make  the  best  of  it ;  but  don't  you  think 
she — they — wrould  be  satisfied  if  we  left  them  on 
Saturday  f  » 

4*  53 


54  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  Easy  enough  to  manage  that  when  we  get  there," 
answered  Jerry,  in  high  good  humor.  "You  brave 
creature,  you  look  like  the  leader  of  a  forlorn  hope." 

"  Oh,  if  you  only  knew,"  she  said,  leaning  down  to 
rest  her  cheek  on  his,  in  the  great  need  of  love  that 
was  to  this  woman,  as  to  all  women,  the  impulse  over 
powering  judgment,  "how  wickedly  happy  I  am  in 
doing  what  pleases  you !  " 

"  You  're  a  greenhorn  to  show  your  cards  thus  early 
in  the  game/'  he  answered,  feeling  convinced,  however, 
that  she  was  really  a  sage.  "And  about  this  visit  to 
the  Shaftos  bothering  you,  it  really  need  n't  be  such  a 
bugbear  if  you  go  in  for  it  pluckily.  It  may  end  in 
quite  a  lark  for  you  ;  who  knows ! " 

Eleanor,  in  spite  of  her  heroism,  shivered  a  little 
here. 

"  Oh,  no,  no ;  1 'm  rather  a  coward,  Jerry,  for  all  I 
look  so  brave.  For  Major  Shafto's  sake, — he  must 
be  a  noble  if  mistaken  man, — let  us  try  to  be  resigned. 
It  will  be  a  bore  to  you,  Jerry ;  I  'm  sorry  to  think  of 
that.  They  have  friends  stopping  there,  he  says — a 
small  house-party.  Now,  who  can  her  friends  be  ? " 

"  Your  mother's  Aunt  Penfold,  perhaps,"  suggested 
Jerry,  with  malice  prepense. 

"  You  wretched  boy,  how  dare  you !  Aunt  Penfold 
is  her  godmother,  I  think,  and  there  has  always  been 
a  dread  in  the  family  lest  the  old  lady,  who  is  what 
Betty  calls  pig-headed,  should  leave  all  her  money  to 
Sophy  King — Shafto,  I  mean.  I  saw  her  at  Aunt 
Penf old's  in  my  school-girl  days  —  a  showy  creature 
with  black  hair  and  snapping  black  eyes.  I  wTas  wild 
with  ambition  to  dress  like  her,  I  remember." 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  55 

"  Her  liair  's  red  now, —  or  blonded,  as  I  believe  you 
women  say, —  and  she  }s  a  bouncer  in  size  and  style. 
I  believe  in  my  soul  that  Shafto  married  her  because 
he  thought  he  'd  stand  by  her  before  the  world.  He  's 
an  awful  flat  where  women  are  concerned ;  but  he  's 
only  to  see  you,  to  know  you  're  of  a  different  sort, 
and  he  won't  push  the  thing  again.  And  she — why, 
you  11  no  more  mix  than  oil  and  water;  she  '11  be 
wanting  to  get  rid  of  you  instead  of  holding  on. 
Don't  bother  your  head  about  that,  my  pretty  Puri 
tan." 

"  But  I  can't  help  wondering  why,  when  she  knows 
what  mama  has  always  thought  of  her,  she  should 
want  to  get  me  to  be  her  guest.  O  Jerry,  you  men 
are  bigger  and  broader  than  we  !  Here  am  I,  doubt 
ing  and  suspecting,  and  you,  having  made  up  your 
mind  to  do  a  generous  thing,  never  change  or  falter, 
but  go  straight  ahead,  almost  as  if  you  like  the  idea 
of  going  to  that  racketing  woman's  house." 

tl  I  forgot  to  say,"  he  answered,  waiving  discussion 
on  the  last  suggested  point,  "you  may  as  well  prepare 
yourself.  I  '11  bet  ten  to  one  Kitty  Foote  will  be  one 
of  their  party." 

"  Kitty  Foote  ? "  echoed  Eleanor,  faintly. 

"  She  was  traveling  bridesmaid,  or  what  do  you  call 
it,  on  their  late  trip  to  Alaska,  and  she  and  Sophy 
Shafto  are  as  thick  as  thieves  just  now.  Of  course 
that  horsey,  doggy  kind  of  girl  is  n't  to  your  taste, 
but,  at  least,  she  's  accepted  everywhere.  The  Van 
Loons  had  her  at  Newport  stopping  with  them  last 
year,  and  she  goes  into  the  best  houses.  I  think  that 
kind  of  boy  in  petticoats  is  a  first-class  bore,  myself  j 


56  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

and  most  men  agree  with  me.  They  call  her  '  good 
old  Kitty/  at  the  clubs.  She  is  n't  clever,  she 's  as  ugly 
as  a  mud-fence,  and  her  people  are  of  no  consequence ; 
but  she  7s  invited  more  than  any  girl  I  know,  simply 
because  she  's  a  social  stop-gap,  and  always  can  be 
had." 

"  Is  n't  she  the  intimate  friend  of  your  friend  Hilde- 
garde  de  Lancey  ? "  asked  Eleanor. 

"  1 7ve  met  her  there,"  Jerry  answered.  "  Look  be 
low,  at  this  funny  old  darky,  Nell,  trying  to  get  his 
mule  past  the  gate-post  with  a  load  of  garden  stuff. 
He  is  remonstrating  with  the  beast  as  if  it  were  a 
brother  or  a  son." 

The  side  window  of  their  sitting-room  looked  down 
upon  a  service  road,  leading  between  dwarf-oranges 
and  palmettos  to  the  rear  of  the  hotel.  There  was  no 
one  in  sight,  and  the  voice  of  the  gentle  old  negro,  his 
skin,  hair,  beard,  and  clothing  alike  as  gray  as  the 
hanging-moss  of  his  native  woods,  was  heard,  uncon 
scious  of  observation,  in  soft  rebuke. 

"Hi,  muel!  What  you  doin'  dar,  muel?  I  done 
told  you  'bout  dat  ar  pos'  day  befo'  yistiddy." 

"O  Jerry  dear,  to  think  of  leaving  this  Arcadian 
place ! "  said  Nell,  as  the  listeners  laughed  together. 
"I  shall  always  remember  it  as  heaven  on  earth." 

"If  monotony  's  your  standard — "  began  he. 

"  Hush !  I  forbid  you,"  she  said,  putting  her  hand 
over  his  mouth. 

"  For  a  man  who  is  not  running  a  railway,  or  boom 
ing  land,  or  growing  oranges,  or — spooning — "  he 
succeeded  in  getting  out. 

"Jerry!" 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  57 

"  The  uses  of  rural  Florida  may  be — but — " 

"  Oh,  please  don't,  dearest !  What  you  are  going 
to  say  will  give  me  a  real  pang.  I  don't  know  how  it 
is,  but  I  am  getting  to  be  afraid  to  let  you  know  how 
much  I  think  of — things,"  she  concluded  irrelevantly. 

"  I  know  enough  to  be  convinced  that  you  are  what 
my  mother's  chef  said  of  a  salad  of  lettuce  sprinkled 
with  fresh  violets  and  old  Bordeaux  he  sent  up  re 
cently —  'vraiment  lyrique.'  There,  let 's  kiss  and  be 
friends,  and  forgive  me  for  teasing  you." 

She  stood  a  while  with  his  arm  around  her  waist, 
looking  out  in  the  fullness  of  contentment  at  the 
dancing  waters  of  the  lake  under  the  white  and  green 
and  gold  of  an  arch  of  orange-boughs. 

"  Only  two  days  more  of  this,  and  then  to  the  busy 
world  again,"  she  murmured.  "Who  would  believe 
there  is  an  actual  New  York  ?  How  still  it  is  to-day ! 
One  could  almost  hear  a  pin  drop." 

"  No  such  good  luck  as  to  hear  a  pin  drop,"  Jerry 
laughed,  taking  out  his  watch,  and  discovering  with 
animation  that  he  had  just  time  to  walk  to  the  railway 
station  for  the  daily  excitement  of  seeing  the  northern 
train  halt  on  its  southward  wray. 

THERE  was  nothing  lyrical  in  the  next  appearance 
before  the  callous  outside  world  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ger 
ald  Vernon.  They  went  down  to  Badajoz  on  the  11.30 
train  on  Thursday,  like  any  other  pair  of  smart  tour 
ists,  in  a  compartment  to  themselves,  with  the  valet 
and  maid  in  seats  just  outside  of  it,  those  two  long- 
suffering  underlings  having  the  appearance  of  sub 
dued  rejoicing  at  a  move  in  no  matter  what  direction. 


58  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

The  usual  paraphernalia  of  silver-mounted  traveling- 
bags,  rugs  as  soft  as  down,  umbrellas,  sticks,  and 
parasols  strapped  together  into  an  obese  roll,  top 
coats,  and  English  waterproofs,  littered  their  sofa  and 
filled  their  racks.  The  great  bunch  of  violets  that 
Gerald  had  ordered  to  follow  his  wife  during  every 
day  of  her  absence  from  New  York  scattered  its  sweet 
ness  from  the  breast  of  Eleanor's  jacket.  The  young 
couple  bore  every  mark  of  prosperous  conventionality. 
Nell,  who  in  her  secret  soul  would  have  preferred,  at 
that  moment,  to  be  sitting  alone  with  Gerald  on  a 
desert  island,  as  Paul  and  Virginia  are  pictorially 
seen,  under  the  shelter  of  a  single  palm-leaf,  could  not 
understand  the  rather  exhilarated  manner  with  which 
her  husband  went  off  for  a  visit  to  the  smoking-car, 
"just  to  see  if  any  one  he  knew  was  on  the  train."  It 
did  not  occur  to  her  that  Jerry,  manlike,  now  that  he 
knew  their  dawdling  time  was  over,  rejoiced  in  their 
swift  rush  onward,  keenly  relished  contact  with  his 
kind,  and  found  new  satisfaction  in  railway  sights  and 
sounds.  During  their  short  expedition,  he  was  liberal 
to  the  porter  to  the  extent  of  filling  that  sated  soul 
with  gratitude,  burdened  Hughes  and  Elsa  with  "  all 
the  latest  novels  and  magazines,"  and,  for  one  brief 
moment,  even  felt  a  pang  of  regret  that  he  could  not 
bring  himself  to  make  a  purchase  from  the  peddler  of 
travelers'  caps. 

Badajoz,  where  the  train,  speeding  on,  left  them 
under  the  Queen  Anne  roof  of  a  pretty  little  station, 
was  one  of  the  speculative  products  of  modern  Flor 
ida, — a  brand-new  town,  built  on  the  edge  of  a  little 
sapphire  lake  where  herons  stalked,  surrounded  by 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  59 

woods  full  of  red-bud,  with  yellow  jasmine  garlanding 
the  trees,  and  all  manner  of  sweet  wild  flowers  sharing 
an  undergrowth  with  moccasins  and  black-snakes  and 
other  reminders  of  a  subtropical  region.  Streets  and 
town-lots,  big  with  intention,  were  staked  off  on  all 
sides,  but  of  actual  village  there  was  little,  and  what 
there  was  bore  the  appearance  of  having  been  taken 
out  of  packing-boxes,  newly  painted  and  varnished, 
and  set  up  over-night.  Hidden  by  the  station,  Major 
Shafto's  dog-cart  was  in  waiting,  the  Major  himself 
occupied  with  soothing  a  pair  of  fretting  bays.  He 
was  a  bluif,  bearded  man,  of  a  matter-of-fact  demean 
or,  and  as  Eleanor  accepted  the  seat  beside  him,  Jerry 
perching  behind,  and  the  servants  following  in  a  trap 
with  the  grooms  and  luggage,  she  could  hardly  believe 
that  this  commonplace  personage  was  the  hero  of  a 
marriage  as  recklessly  chivalric  as  that  of  any  figure 
in  romance.  While  the  horses,  released  from  durance 
and  suspicion  of  the  engine,  shot  forward  on  a  sandy 
road  through  the  gloom  of  a  pine-wood,  she  ventured 
a  glance  sidewise  at  her  charioteer,  half  expecting,  as 
Jerry  afterward  declared,  "  some  development  of  the 
bucaneer  variety."  It  was  almost  a  disappointment 
that,  what  between  her  husband  and  the  horses,  their 
host  found  time  to  bestow  on  her  only  a  few  of  those 
meager  conventional  civilities  that  make  a  woman 
feel  her  presence  thrown  away.  It  was  when  they 
turned  in  at  an  avenue  hedged  with  oleander  and 
twinkling  laurel  that  the  first  surprise  was  accorded 
her. 

"  As  I  wrote  you,  there  are  people  stopping  here," 
Major   Shafto  said  indifferently.      "  Friends  of  my 


60  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

wife's,  you  know.    Man  you  7ve  met  perhaps,  Vernon, 

—  Lord  knows  what  women  like  in  him, — that  Eng 
lish  fellow,  Carteret  Leeds ;  then,  Miss  Foote  and  her 
brother,  and  Mrs.  de  Laneey,  that  Mrs.  Shafto  wired 
to  come  down  from  the  Ponce  de  Leon;  and — so, 
Beauty;    quiet,  Booty,  you  brute — I  believe  young 
Van  Loon  is  due  to-night." 

"Timothy?"  began  Jerry,  with  a  whistle,  but  the 
horses,  shying  at  a  watering-pot  supplementing  a 
wheelbarrow  near  the  drive,  obviated  the  necessity  of 
a  reply.  He  was  on  the  ground  to  help  his  wife  when 
they  pulled  up  at  the  door. 

An  ideal  retreat  for  Loves  and  Graces  was  the  Bun 
galow,  massed  in  verdurous  shrubbery,  its  slanting 
roof  and  verandas  overrun  with  Cherokee  roses,  be 
tween  tall  palmetto-trees,  under  a  sky  of  intense  blue 

—  sufficiently  far  from  the  madding  crowd  of  Florida 
tourists,  and  yet  near  enough  for  convenience;  like 
the  " desert"  of  Lady  Juliana,  the  spoiled  London 
beauty  in  Miss  Ferrier's  delightful  old  novel,  "  a  beau 
tiful  place,  all  roses  and  myrtles,  not  absolutely  out 
of  the  world,  where  one  can  give  fetes  champetres  and 
dejeuners  to  one's  friends." 

It  was  a  marvel  to  see  how  the  ambulating  proprie 
tors,  who  had  come  south  in  their  yacht  not  a  fort 
night  before,  had  contrived  to  give  the  Bungalow  an 
air  of  luxurious  finish,  as  if  they  had  lived  there  since 
the  planting  of  the  first  vine.  The  broad  veranda, 
spread  with  rugs,  had  the  customary  array  of  little 
tables  containing  brass  pots  of  growing  plants,  re 
views,  magazines,  and  paper-knives,  drawn  up  at  the 
elbows  of  wicker  chairs,  under  hanging  lamps  set 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  63 

with  bosses  of  colored  glass,  and  much  ironmongery 
in  spirals  and  curlicues.  There  was  a  hammock  of 
yellow-and- white  netting,  dangling  with  tassels  like 
the  mount  of  a  Spanish  muleteer ;  and  this  was  filled 
with  cushions  of  silk  in  rainbow  hues.  There  were 
screens  and  sofas,  porcelain  garden-seats,  a  medley  of 
the  picturesque  effects  with  which  we  are  all  familiar 
nowadays.  From  somewhere  at  the  rear  of  the  house 
arose  the  sound  of  voices  over  a  game  of  tennis,  and, 
issuing  from  a  hall  crowded  with  Japanese  curios, 
appeared  a  smug  butler  attended  by  a  fresh-faced 
young  underling  in  maroon  livery  with  a  striped 
waistcoat,  both  of  whom  might  have  just  emerged 
from  a  class-meeting,  so  guileless  did  they  appear. 
Eleanor,  whose  heart  had  begun  to  beat  at  the  near 
ness  of  the  dreaded  encounter,  was  relieved  by  these 
every-day  apparitions ;  nor  was  she  further  alarmed 
upon  the  arrival  from  the  tennis-ground  of  their 
hostess,  holding  over  her  bare  head  a  large  white  lace 
parasol,  and  letting  float  behind  her  a  graceful  trail 
of  crinkled  stuff  cleverly  adjusted  to  conceal  the 
tendency  to  flesh  that  afforded  her  continual  concern. 
Mrs.  Shafto  came  toward  them  swiftly,  a  little  ner 
vously,  but  carrying  it  off  with  a  fine  show  of  hearty 
welcome,  and  talking  to  preclude  the  possibility  of 
answer. 

"  Awfully  kind  of  you  to  come  to  our  little  shanty 
in  the  wilderness,"  she  said  to  Eleanor  when  the  first 
bustle  of  arrival  lulled.  "  I  told  Shafto  I  thought  you 
might  like  to  bring  Mr.  Vernon  to  visit  so  old  a  friend. 
I  won't  claim  acquaintance  for  myself,  though  I  saw 
you  as  a  school-girl  at  your  Aunt  Penfold's  long  ago." 


64  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  I  remember  perfectly/'  Eleanor  answered,  blushing, 
and  looking  about  her.  "What  a  pretty  place  you 
have !  This  is  not  my  idea  of  the  wilderness  at  all." 

"The  modern  conception  of  roughing  it/'  chimed 
in  Jerry,  who  had  kept  close  to  his  wife's  elbow. 

"  Oh,  it  was  easy  enough.  We  sent  a  lot  of  people 
down  before  us,  and  they  did  it  all/'  said  Mrs.  Shafto, 
superbly.  "  Come  in  and  see  our  l  living-room/  as  we 
call  it.  I  made  Lebel  get  this  glazed  chintz  with  the 
big  gillyflowers  from  Paris,  and  he  sent  a  Frenchman 
to  drape  the  walls  and  curtains.  The  rest  is,  as  you 
see,  principally  Florentine  mirrors  and  brocade  photo 
graph-frames,  and  a  lot  of  easy-chairs  and  couches. 
What  shall  they  fetch  you  —  shandygaff,  or  lemon- 
squash,  or  a  B.  &  S.,  till  luncheon-time  f  When  you  're 
ready,  we  can  go  out  on  the  tennis-court  a  bit." 

"  Shafto  tells  me  you  've  got  a  houseful,"  Jerry  said, 
over  his  shoulder,  as  he  bent  down  to  look  at  a  glass 
case  of  miniatures. 

"Yes ;  we  brought  all  but  Hilda  in  the  yacht.  She 
was  at  the  Ponce  de  Leon  nursing  a  wretched  cold, 
and  we  wired  at  once  for  her,  poor  dear,  and  she  came 
over  with  Miss  Shaw." 

"  Miss  Shaw  ? "  asked  Jerry,  as  they  set  out  to  stroll 
around  the  house  and  through  the  grounds. 

"  Yes ;  her  companion,  the  sheep-faced  old  thing 
who  used  to  knit  in  corners  —  don't  you  remember? 
Began  as  governess  to  the  little  girls,  who  are  with 
Hilda's  mother,  now.  Well,  she 's  here,  and  Kitty  and 
Leeds  do  nothing  but  run  rigs  on  her,  and  she  never 
finds  it  out.  Did  Shafto  tell  you  we  're  to  have  Timo 
thy  to-night  ?" 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  65 

"  I  heard  he  is  in  these  parts  under  the  delusion  he 
is  trying  for  tarpon." 

"  That  's  a  new  name  for  it/7  said  Mrs.  Shafto,  shoot 
ing  at  him  a  gleam  from  her  eye.  "  You  have  been 
out  of  the  world  not  to  know  that  since  your  young 
sister-in-law  turned  the  cold  shoulder  upon  the  heir  of 
the  Van  Loons,  he  has  developed  another  flame." 

"  Confound  him  for  a  jackanapes ! "  said  Jerry, 
flushing  a  little.  "  The  fellow  's  always  getting  into 
messes  with  feminines.  I  wonder  his  dear  mama  don't 
send  a  nursery-maid  along  to  keep  him  from  making 
acquaintance  with  strange  little  girls." 

They  had  fallen  behind  Major  Shafto  and  Eleanor, 
and  she  dropped  her  voice. 

"Oh,  but  you  are  the  one  to  make  allowances  in 
this  case.  A  year  ago  you  might  have  even  sympa 
thized —  she  has  quite  turned  his  brain." 

"  His  ivliat  f  "  growled  Jerry,  blackly. 

"  Oh,  well,  what  passes  for  that  organ  in  his  anat 
omy.  He  is  fairly  infatuated,  and  would  marry  her 
to-morrow  if — " 

"If  what?" 

"If  he  were  not  chiefly  dependent  on  his  affection 
ate  parents,  who  are  nothing  if  not  respectable,  and 
could  n't  stand  a  blot  in  the  Van  Loon  escutcheon. 
That 's  not  such  an  out-of-the-way,  unheard-of  condi 
tion  of  affairs,  eh  f  It  seems  to  me  I  was  the  confi 
dante,  a  year  ago,  of  a  greatly  superior  young  man,  in 
very  much  the  same  predicament." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  take  care,"  he  said  hurriedly. 

"Don't  be  afraid.  I  am  discretion  itself.  Even 
Shafto  don't  know  how  near  you  came  to — but  the 
5 


66  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

best  of  the  joke  about  Timothy  is  that  Hilda  has 
ceased  to  laugh  at  him.  That  is  always  dangerous, 
I  Ve  found.  You  know  he  inherited  from  an  old  aunt 
a  year  or  two  ago,  and  there  's  enough  cash  for  them 
to  wait  on  till  the  family  comes  around — " 

"Look  here,"  he  said  bruskly,  as  they  turned  the 
corner  of  the  house  where  Shafto  had  stopped  to  point 
out  to  Eleanor  his  pet  grove  of  oranges.  "  I  thought 
I  knew  you  pretty  well,  but  I  '11  be  hanged  if  I  under 
stand  what  you  brought  us  here  for." 

"  It  was  Major  Shafto,  who  quite  longed  to  see  his 
dear  old  friend,"  she  answered  demurely.  "  How  could 
I  suppose  you'd  be  getting  excited  over  Hilda's  af 
fairs  of  the  heart,  now  you  are  a  married  man  ?  Pray 
calm  down.  I  know  those  sudden  tempests  of  yours, 
and  how  hard  you  used  to  find  it  to  hold  them  in 
when  you  and  I  and  Hilda  were  at  Sioux  Falls  last 
year.  But  I  could  n't  have  expected  to  see  one  noiv, 
could  I?" 

"  I  wish  I  had  n't  let  you  worm  my  folly  out  of  me 
that  time,"  he  said  bitterly.  "  Though  you  pretended 
to  stand  my  friend  in  the  matter,  it  is  certain  you 
never  did  me  any  good." 

"  Oh,  come,  come  !  "  she  said  chidingly.  "  It  is  your 
mother  who  should  be  charged  with  all  the  blame  of 
interference  and  disaster.  But  what  does  it  matter 
now?  This  is  a  poor  time  to  quarrel.  You  must 
behave  yourself,  and  help  me  to  make  it  pleasant  for 
— we  must  all  be  on  our  good  behavior — your  beau 
tiful  young  wife." 

"  One  word  only,"  he  said.  "  I  would  have  written 
this  beforehand,  but  I  thought  I  could  trust  it  to  your 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  67 

good  nature.  Eleanor  knows  nothing  of  that  affair. 
You  will  let — sleeping  dogs  lie?" 

"  Of  course.  What  possible  motive  could  I  have  to 
do  otherwise  ?  We  are  talking  of  Major  Shafto's  dogs, 
Mrs.  Vernon,"  she  said  smoothly,  as  the  others  came 
up  with  them.  "You  must  make  him  take  you  to  his 
kennels.  Our  man  has  had  such  wonderful  luck  this 
year  with  dachshunds — Yes;  that  tree  covered  with 
yellow  jasmine  is  pretty,  is  n't  it  ?  Here  we  are.  You 
know  every  one,  I  believe?  I  really  think  myself 
very  clever  to  get  up  such  a  meeting  of  old  friends." 

Gerald  had  run  upon  the  Shaftos  the  year  before, 
when  they  had  gone  West  to  be  rid  of  the  odium  of 
newspaper  comment  upon  their  marriage,  and,  pre 
sented  by  the  Major  to  his  wdfe,  had  been  speedily 
established  as  a  confidential  friend  of  the  menage.  In 
his  then  frame  of  mind  it  had  been  an  immense  com 
fort  to  tell  somebody — and  especially  a  nice,  jolly, 
kind-hearted  woman  who  had  herself  felt  the  world's 
rubs,  and  could  sympathize — about  his  mad  passion 
for  that  loveliest  and  most  ill-used  of  creatures,  Hilde- 
garde  Smithson,  then  a  resident  of  Dakota,  awaiting 
her  freedom  from  a  hateful  bond.  Finding  such  con 
genial  society,  Mrs.  Shafto  persuaded  her  Major  to 
stay  his  steps  in  Sioux  Falls  for  a  while,  and  the  four 
had  spent  their  days  together  in  riding  and  driving 
and  such  other  amusements  as  the  place  afforded. 
Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  not  long  before 
Mrs.  Shafto  became  possessed  of  the  secret  aspiration 
of  Jerry's  heart — to  marry  Hildegarde  as  soon  as  the 
law  should  set  its  fairest  victim  free.  Now,  as  the 
canons  of  modern  story-writing  allow  no  suggestion 


68  SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF   TUNE 

of  a  mystery  in  the  story's  plot,  we  may  make  haste 
to  say  that  this  discovery  did  not  please  Mrs.  Shafto 
in  the  least.  She  was  jealous  and  mischievous,  and, 
like  the  Grim  Reaper,  wanted  all  men  for  her  harvest. 
Her  first  move  was  to  let  her  Hercules-in-toils,  the  big 
Major,  who  was  ignorant  of  women's  wiles,  go  off  on 
a  hunting  expedition,  taking  Jerry  with  him,  in  search 
of  deer  and  bear,  which  at  most  times  will  comfort 
man  for  the  absence  of  his  feminine  enslaver.  When 
they  returned,  and  Gerald  flew  to  the  presence  of  Mrs. 
Smithson,  he  was  encountered  on  the  way  by  an  im 
perative  telegram  from  his  mother  in  New  York,  bid 
ding  him  come  home  in  the  interests  of  important 
business.  And  when  he  had  at  once  packed  his  port 
manteau,  and  started  for  home,  Mrs.  Shafto,  in  the 
most  complacent  manner  in  the  world,  rubbed  her 
hands  as  if  to  be  rid  of  a  tiresome  episode,  and  in 
formed  the  Major  that  it  was  time  to  set  forth  upon 
their  still  farther  western  journey.  Before  leaving, 
she  breathed  a  tender  adieu  to  her  charming  Hilde- 
garde,  who,  whatever  she  felt,  was  in  no  position  to 
give  token  of  discomfiture. 

When  the  triumphantly  liberated  Mrs.  de  Lancey, 
late  Smithson,  again  encountered  Gerald  Vernon,  in 
Lenox,  six  months  later,  he  was  in  the  train  of  a  girl 
who,  everybody  said,  would  marry  him  if  he  really 
meant  business.  Gerald  had  meant  business,  had 
married  Eleanor  Halliday,  and  had  compromised  with 
his  conscience  about  forsaking  Hildegarde  by  induc 
ing  his  mother-in-law  to  send  her  an  invitation  to  the 
wedding. 

Now,  when  they  met  at  the  Bungalow,  he  sat  quite 


SWEET  BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  69 

content  on  a  little  iron  bench  beside  her,  talking  com 
monplaces,  and  watching  Kitty  Foote  jump  about, 
performing  prodigies  of  tennis  in  a  match  of  singles 
with  Mr.  Carteret  Leeds.  Spite  of  his  little  spasm  of 
resentment  of  the  enamored  Timothy,  Gerald  looked 
from  Hilda  over  at  his  blooming,  innocent  Nell,  and 
asked  himself  if  it  were  just  a  year  ago  that  he  had 
gone  off  from  Sioux  Falls  ready  to  blow  his  brains 
out  for  the  sake  of  this  woman,  whose  face  looked  a 
little  worn  in  the  full  light  of  day.  He  was  even 
critical  about  the  lines  of  Hildegarde's  figure,  hitherto 
esteemed  peerless,  and  decided  that  it  did  not  compare 
with  that  of  his  young  Diana,  tall  and  slim  and  long- 
waisted,  her  head  so  grandly  set  upon  her  long,  full 
throat.  And  when  he  asked  Mrs.  de  Lancey  as  to 
the  health  of  her  two  little  darlings, — "so  pretty  and 
quaint  with  their  hair  like  spun  silk," — he  felt  a  sense 
of  devout  gratitude  that  he  was  not  at  the  moment 
sharing,  as  it  were,  the  paternal  rights  over  these 
blessings  with  the  very  objectionable  Smithson,  who 
was  still  living  in  the  family  mansion,  and  conducting 
business  in  his  usual  place  in  New  York,  and  was  lia 
ble  to  be  met  in  the  usual  haunts  and  thoroughfares. 
He  recalled  with  forgiveness  the  tremendous  outburst 
of  temper  with  which  his  mother  had  favored  him 
when  he  acknowledged  to  her  charge  his  intention  to 
wed  Mrs.  Smithson.  He  had  long  ceased  to  smart 
over  the  convincing  argument — a  threat  of  utter 
disinheritance  —  by  which  his  mother  had  conquered 
him.  And  he  never  once  suspected  whose  had  been 
the  hand  that  had  set  the  machinery  in  motion  to 
alter  the  current  of  his  life.  Altogether,  he  was 


70  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

proud  to  have  stood  the  test  of  meeting  Hilda  so  suc 
cessfully. 

By  dinner-time  Nell  had  begun  to  feel  more  at  ease 
in  what  her  mother  would  have  called  this  dubious 
house.  So  long  as  nothing  appeared  to  shock  the  eye 
and  sense,  there  was  even  something  rather  fascinat 
ing  in  her  feeling  of  independence  as  a  young  wife, 
with  no  one  to  account  to  but  a  facile,  smiling  hus 
band,  who  made  light  of  so  many  of  her  inherited 
prejudices.  Mrs.  Shafto,  brusk  and  jovial,  amused 
her.  She  liked  the  Major,  and  Mrs.  de  Lancey  was 
one  of  those  women  whom  all  women  admire  and  pet. 
Even  the  tomboy  Kitty  Foote  showed  to  better  advan 
tage  in  a  bungalow  than  at  the  gatherings  of  conven 
tionality  in  town.  But  Eleanor  could  not  be  lenient 
to  Mr.  Carteret  Leeds. 

He  was  an  Englishman  who  had  been  wafted  on 
his  way  into  American  society  by  favoring  gales.  Five 
or  six  leading  families,  like  Homer's  cities  for  Homer 
dead,  disputed  for  him  the  first  winter  he  appeared ; 
but  when  interrogated,  no  member  of  any  family 
could  say  who  had  discovered  or  introduced  him.  For 
a  while  inquiry  had  been  appeased  by  a  rumor  that  he 
was  a  younger  son  of  Lord  Kirkstall,  come  to  New 
York  to  go  into  trade ;  but  to  a  visiting  American 
his  lordship  had  indignantly  disclaimed  any  offshoot 
whatever  in  America,  adding  incidentally,  that  he 
did  n't  think  one  of  his  sons  would  fancy  living  in 
the  States,  where  it  must  be  so  uncommonly  nasty  to 
be  served  only  by  blacks,  you  know.  The  disclaimer 
being  duly  reported,  upon  the  visiting  American's  re 
turn,  found  Mr.  Carteret  Leeds  in  full  swing  at  New- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  71 

port,  where  he  was  of  too  decided  a  social  value  to  be 
lightly  cast  away.  He  was  an  authority  on  polo  and 
cricket,  on  horse-play  in  English  country  houses,  and 
in  the  hunting-field,  and  no  one  liked  to  think  of  the 
void  his  absence  would  create  •  so  it  was  decided  to 
ask  no  more  questions,  but  to  accept  this  nice,  mys 
terious  man  without  home  or  friends  or  country.  Still, 
ignorant  people  would  occasionally  err,  and  Leeds  was 
once  put  upon  a  committee  of  arrangement  to  draw 
up  a  schedule  of  unprecedented  gaieties  in  honor  of 
an  English  prince  who  never  came ;  this  honor,  how 
ever,  he  declined  without  explanation  of  any  kind— 
which,  in  the  opinion  of  some  conservatives,  was  the 
best  evidence  of  sense  Mr.  Leeds  had  yet  afforded. 

Mrs.  Halliday's  home  in  New  York  had  been  one  of 
those  that  had  not  opened  its  portals  to  Mr.  Leeds, 
and  Eleanor  disliked  extremely  being  thrown  in  the 
intimacy  of  a  house-party  with  a  person  who  was 
more  than  suspected  of  using  his  social  opportunities 
to  furnish  personalities  at  so  much  per  column  to  jour 
nals  of  the  baser  sort.  So  she  greeted  him  with  bare 
civility,  and,  in  response  to  a  venture  upon  his  part 
congratulating  her  upon  "leavin7  the  fossils,"  and 
"comin'  in  with  the  knowin'  set,"  straightened  her 
back  and  stared  at  him  with  such  cold  surprise  that 
for  once  Leeds  was  subdued,  and  reckless  Mrs.  Gerald 
had  an  enemy  the  more  written  upon  her  list. 

Little  Foote,  Kitty's  brother,  a  shadowy  present 
ment  of  his  own  idea  of  a  "swagger"  Englishman, 
was  more  amusing  than  injurious  to  society.  His 
innocent  pleasure  was  to  be  forever  changing  clothes 
that  he  had  lately  bought  in  London.  He  was  volu- 


72  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

ble  in  Lisping  about  the  movements  of  the  fashionable 
world,  in  a  curious  dialect  compounded  of  American- 
ese  and  Mayfair  English.  And  he  looked  up  to  Mr. 
Carteret  Leeds  as  to  a  Mentor  whom  it  were  pride  to 
heed. 

Dinner  brought  with  it  Mr.  Timothy  Van  Loon,  of 
whom  it  cannot  be  said  that  his  distinguished  position 
in  the  American  aristocracy  was  manifest  in  his  ap 
pearance.  He  was  tall  and  thin,  with  pale  hair  and 
pinkish  eyelids,  and  a  feathery,  pale  mustache.  At 
his  coming,  the  matrons  and  maids  of  society  were  so 
wont  to  melt  into  exceeding  friendliness,  so  accus 
tomed  was  he  to  see  men  of  mature  age,  of  distin 
guished  achievement,  of  personal  attraction,  forsaken 
at  his  approach,  that  in  his  own  infallibility  to  please 
he  had  come  to  put  a  trust  no  circumstance  could 
shake.  As  to  him  was  allotted  the  hostess  to  take  in, 
and  Eleanor  sat  upon  the  Major's  right,  Gerald  and 
Mrs.  de  Lancey  were  partners  during  the  dinner  hour, 
and  it  was  plain  to  behold  the  discomfort  poor  Timo 
thy  endured.  He  grew  sullen,  drank  freely,  left  his 
hostess  to  sustain  a  monologue  ;  and  Eleanor,  seeing 
her  husband  for  the  first  time  bestowing  on  another 
woman  the  attention  that  had  been  hers  exclusively, 
sighed  while  chiding  herself  for  a  weakness  she  con 
temned.  She  resolved  to  make  up  for  this  her  uncon 
scious  cerebration  by  an  especial  overture  of  friendli 
ness  to  Mrs.  de  Lancey  when  the  women  should  meet 
after  dinner  in  the  drawing-room. 

The  evening,  like  the  day,  passed  without  incident. 
The  absent  spirit  of  Mrs.  Halliday  might  have  been 
placated  by  its  restraint.  "It  was  so  deadly  dull," 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  73 

Mrs.  Shafto  told  Leeds  in  the  smoking-room  after 
ward,  "we  thought  of  asking  some  one  to  recite." 
When  the  ladies  assembled  in  the  hall  to  take  their 
bedroom  candlesticks,  Gerald  spoke  for  a  moment  tb 
his  wife. 

"  I  shall  be  late,  probably,"  he  said  •  u  we  've  a  game 
of  cards  on,  and  yon  mnst  n't  keep  awake." 

While  Mrs.  Vernon's  maid  was  still  brushing  her 
brown  hair,  and  Eleanor,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
floor,  was  deciding  that  she  should  certainly  hold  to 
her  first  plan  of  leaving  the  Bungalow  on  Saturday, 
female  forms  clad  in  trailing  tea-gowns  were  stealing 
past  her  door,  and  flitting  down  the  stairs.  A  little 
later,  when  Elsa  had  been  dismissed,  Eleanor  heard 
strange  sounds  from  the  bowling-alley  near  the  house 
— music,  dancing,  and  shrieks  of  hilarious  laughter 
that  were  not  all  from  the  ruder  sex.  Feeling  uncom 
fortable,  the  young  wife  stole  out  into  the  corridor  with 
a  vague  hope  of  summoning  her  husband  to  her  side. 
There,  hovering  over  the  banister,  in  a  frilled  short- 
gown  and  petticoat,  she  encountered  the  spectral  figure 
of  Miss  Shaw,  who  was  bathed  in  tears. 

"Oh,  my  dear,  this  is  too  much ! "  moaned  the  an 
cient  maiden,  wringing  her  hands.  "  It 's  bad  enough 
to  see  ladies  smoking  cigarettes  and  playing  cards  till 
all  hours  every  night ;  but  here  they  have  got  up  a  sort 
of  fancy  ball  in  the  bowling-alley,  and — I  'm  ashamed 
to  tell  you — that  Mr.  Leeds  has  gone  and  got  on  my 
— my  night- things  over  his  dress-suit,  and  has  been 
dancing  a  skirt-dance  with  Miss  Foote  in  her  brother's 
clothes." 

"I   must   see   my  husband,"   said   Eleanor,  hotly. 


7-i  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  This  must  be  stopped — Jerry  will  stop  it  at  once; 
there  is  nothing  so  despicable  to  him ! " 

But,  alas  !  at  this  moment,  full  in  their  sight,  Jerry, 
wearing  a  fool's  costume  and  bells,  with  a  lighted 
cigar  between  his  teeth,  pranced  through  the  hall 
below,  followed  by  the  untiring  Kitty  Foote  attired  as 
Columbine,  and  Mr.  Timothy  Van  Loon  as  Harlequin, 
all  three  evidently  on  their  way  to  appear  in  a  new 
variety  of  entertainment  before  the  audience  awaiting 
them  in  the  impromptu  theater. 

Poor  Eleanor,  too  proud  to  mingle  her  tears  with 
those  of  the  disconsolate  Miss  Shaw,  ran  back  to  her 
room,  and  cried  herself  to  sleep. 


VI 


T  was  clear  to  the  widow  Vernon's 
critics  that  a  sweet  little  cherub  of 
some  kind  was  sitting  up  aloft  keep 
ing  watch  over  her  social  progress 
—  she  was  so  plainly  and  provok- 
ingly  on  the  rise.  Mrs.  Peter  Van 
Shuter,  having  convinced  her  James  that  the  occasion 
justified  the  effort,  that  stately  one,  his  scorn  ill  con 
cealed  by  the  collar  of  a  large  fur  cape,  alighting  at  a 
convenient  hour  from  the  box  of  the  well-known  blue 
chariot  bearing  the  Van  Shuter  crest,  delivered  into 
the  hands  of  Mrs.  Vernon's  menial  at  her  front  door  a 
couple  of  visiting-cards.  One  of  these  bits  of  paste 
board  revealed  "  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  "  simply ;  her  resi 
dence  was  supposed  to  be  known  to  all  the  initiated— 
for  the  vulgar  herd  it  had  no  possible  concern.  The 
smaller  card,  representing  the  Idol's  humdrum  little 
spouse,  had  to  the  larger  the  same  relation  in  size  and 
modest  bearing  sustained  by  Mr.  Van  Shuter  to  his 
lady  in  the  flesh. 

When  James  had  performed  his  duty,  and  received 
an  apologetic  "To  the  park"  from  his  mistress's  lips, 
the  carriage  drove  away,  but  not  before  Mrs.  Veriion, 
—  whose  victoria  awaited  her  descent,  her  footman, 

75 


76  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

the  double  of  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's,  remaining  in  a  statu 
esque  pose  upon  the  curbstone, — happening  to  glance 
through  the  silk  curtains  of  her  morning-room,  had 
the  advantage  of  seeing  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's  knees.  She 
recognized  the  carriage  and  liveries,  and  felt,  in  the 
impatient  drawing  up  of  the  rug  over  an  ample  lap, 
that  if  knees  could  speak,  those  said,  "Now  I  have 
done  it,  let  me  go."  Mrs.  Vernon,  however,  went  on 
buttoning  her  gloves  quietly,  and,  when  the  cards  were 
handed  in,  glanced  at  them  with  admirable  self-control. 
But  as  she  leaned  back  in  the  victoria,  and  allowed  her 
self,  also,  to  be  driven  to  the  park,  a  smile  relaxed  her 
visage  into  satisfaction  no  longer  to  be  restrained. 

Lent  was  under  way,  and  among  the  penitential 
exercises  in  order  for  the  fashionable  world  was  the 
meeting  at  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's,  to  be  conducted  by  the 
most  recent  society  fad,  a  Mrs.  Calliope  Duncombe, 
who  had  suddenly  appeared  as  a  herald  of  a  woman's 
movement  in  behalf  of  fellow- women — whence,  no 
body  knew. 

As  everybody  is  aware,  a  women's  meeting  of  this 
class  means  the  collection  of  a  fund,  and  as  collecting 
a  fund  entails  more  or  less  ordering  around  of  other 
people,  distribution  of  patronage,  and  seeing  one's 
name  in  print,  it  is  always  popular.  Add  to  this  that 
the  affair  was  to  be  nurtured  and  coaxed  into  promi 
nence  in  the  cream-and-gold  Empire  salon  of  Mrs. 
Peter  Van  Shuter,  and  there  was  small  doubt  of  its 
vogue. 

Mrs.  Vernon,  thanks  to  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's  two  bits 
of  pasteboard,  now  saw  no  reason  why  she  might  not 
go  to  this  convocation  with  self-respect.  But  she 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  79 

resolved  so  to  dress  and  demean  herself,  and  so  to 
time  her  arrival,  that  the  fact  of  her  presence  should 
bring  all  it  was  worth. 

At  eleven  A.  M.  on  the  appointed  day,  the  handsome 
room,  with  its  walls  hung  in  pumpkin-colored  damask 
between  panels  of  ivory  and  gilt,  its  crystal  chande 
liers  and  cabinets  of  curios,  was  filled  with  ladies 
seated  upon  spindling  gilt  chairs.  Assembled  there 
with  an  honest  intention  of  making  money  for  a  fund, 
most  of  them  had  entered  no  farther  into  an  under 
standing  of  the  affair  than  that  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's 
Miss  Thompson  had  addressed  the  invitations  for 
them  to  meet  in  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's  famous  Empire 
room.  Pending  the  opening  of  the  proceedings,  a 
chatter  went  on,  gaining  strength  till  it  reached  the 
ear-piercing  climax  known  among  congregations  of 
our  American  fair.  Voices  strained  to  shrillness  met 
and  clashed  in  the  air.  They  talked  of — bodily  com 
plaints,  table-waters,  faith-cure;  the  excellence  of 
rival  schools  as  illustrated  by  their  respective  prog 
eny  ;  one's  anxiety  in  bringing  out  a  girl ;  the  rude 
ness  of  young  men  one  takes  the  trouble  to  invite; 
the  butler's  asthma  and  the  chef's  impertinence ;  their 
recent  travels,  to  which  nobody  would  listen  because 
every  one  had  traveled  recently ;  the  latest  scandal — 
one  of  the  current  week,  since  all  earlier  were  for 
gotten  ;  spring  plans,  summer  plans ;  the  name  and 
author  of  the  naughty  novel  nobody  must  read ;  and 
the  fact  that  the  last  diamond  necklace  of  one  of  their 
leaders  had  cost  fifty  thousand  dollars  more  than  that 
belonging  to  her  sister-in-law,  who  had  gone  into  mor 
tified  retreat. 


80  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

Mrs.  Van  Shuter,  august  and  sleepy,  sat  by  a  table 
at  the  far  end  of  the  room — around  her  two  or  three 
of  those  ladies,  important  as  ball-and-dinner-givers, 
who  are  rightly  reckoned  our  true  nobility.  In  the 
lap  of  this  grandeur,  a  meek-looking  woman  in  a 
Quakerish  bonnet  and  plain  brown  gown  remained 
with  down-dropped  eyes,  awaiting  her  signal  to  arise. 

"  Dear  me  !  It  is  half -past !  Are  n't  they  ready  to 
begin  ? "  said  Mrs.  Bullion  to  Mrs.  Van  Shuter. 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Shuter,  yawning.  "If 
they  don't,  it  will  make  us  late  for  lunch,  and  I  can't 
be  made  late  for  lunch." 

"Then  you  must  call  the  meeting  to  order,"  said 
Mrs.  Bullion,  briskly.  She  was  president  of  a  Baby 
Hospital,  and  knew  her  business  well. 

Thus  prodded,  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  wearily  took  up 
a  paper-knife  inlaid  with  turquoise  and  coral,  and 
knocked  with  it  on  a  table  of  buhl  and  malachite. 
She  had  only  one  fear — that  it  might  be  voted  to 
raise  the  fund  by  subscription,  and  that  she  would 
have  to  head  the  list.  In  the  hush  that  ensued,  sev 
eral  unconscious  women  on  the  outskirts  went  on 
talking  to  one  another  as  before. 

"  If  my  husband  had  that  cough,  I  'd  put  him  in 
flannel  from  top  to  toe,"  remarked  one  lady  at  the 
highest  pitch  of  her  voice ;  then,  covered  with  confu 
sion,  she  sank  into  obscurity. 

Next,  Mrs.  Calliope  Buncombe,  having  been  preluded 
and  introduced,  stood  upon  her  feet,  with  a  deprecat 
ing  smile,  while  her  patronesses  wrangled  over  some 
point  of  parliamentary  law.  At  this  precise  moment 
Mrs.  Vernon,  last  to  arrive,  was  ushered  by  a  footman 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  81 

between  the  folds  of  a  yellow  satin  door-curtain  at  the 
lower  end  of  the  room,  and  remained  standing  long 
enough  for  every  one  present  to  be  aware  of  her  iden 
tity.  Then  with  a  little  bend  of  the  head  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  hostess,  and  nods  here  and  there  about  the 
crowd,  she  sank  leisurely  into  a  chair,  let  fall  away 
from  her  a  cloak  rigid  with  Russian  sables,  crossed 
her  gloved  hands  lightly  upon  her  lap,  and  prepared 
to  listen. 

It  was  undoubtedly  a  well-managed  entrance,  that 
struck  conviction  home  to  many  souls.  But  the  keen 
eyes  of  Betty  Halliday,  perhaps  the  most  interested 
person  in  the  throng,  saw  a  change  coming  over  Mrs. 
Vernon's  face  as  her  gaze  rested  upon  the  speaker  of 
the  day.  She  flushed,  withdrew  a  little  into  the  shade 
of  the  curtain,  fidgeted,  lost  her  imperial  calm.  Curi 
ous  Betty  looked  from  her  again  to  the  lecturer,  but 
in  the  mild  visage  under  the  poke-bonnet  discovered 
nothing.  In  a  musical  voice,  with  a  pleading  manner, 
Mrs.  Duncombe  began  her  smooth  appeal. 

With  her  argument,  this  narrative  has  no  desire  to 
deal.  From  her  opening  statement,  that  history  every 
where  has  shown  that,  in  proportion  as  women  have 
had  the  right  to  protect  themselves,  they  have  freed 
themselves  from  inglorious  burdens,  to  the  closing 
reminder,  that  it  is  woman's  place  to  bear  good  tidings 
of  release  to  her  suffering  sisters,  Betty,  and  unbe 
lievers  like  her,  felt  a  strange  desire  to  laugh.  They 
could  not,  however,  deny  to  Mrs.  Duncombe  the  pos 
session  of  that  magnetic  eloquence  of  manner  that 
often  clothes  weak  speech  with  power  to  move  an 
audience.  Many  of  her  hearers  wiped  their  eyes, 
6 


82  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

some  took  notes  upon  tablets  hanging  at  their  chate 
laines.  Every  woman  who  took  notes  did  so  with  an 
intention  of  bringing  Mrs.  Duncombe's  schemes  for 
resistance  to  arbitrary  man  to  bear  upon  her  own 
domestic  lawgiver,  and  was  afraid  she  would  not  re 
member  to  quote  them  exactly  right.  For  there  was 
this  inevitable  feature  of  some  women's  acceptance 
of  new  doctrine — each  one  instinctively  tested  every 
plea,  argument,  or  illustration  advanced  by  the  speak 
er,  upon  her  own  relations  to  the  husband  of  her 
choice. 

Betty,  who  had  no  husband  to  experiment  on,  sat 
bolt  upright,  and  looked  about  her  cynically,  listening 
to  the  chat  that  arose  as  Mrs.  Duncombe  took  her 
seat. 

"  How  sweet !  "  "  How  true  !  »  "  How  terrible  !  » 
u  How  touching !  "  "  What  an  engaging  personal 
ity  !  "  "  What  a  privilege  dear  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  has 
accorded  us  !  "  "  Those  poke-bonnets  are  rather  be 
coming,  don't  you  think  ? "  "  We  shall  certainly  have 
to  get  up  something  wonderful."  "  I  'm  awfully  sorry 
to  leave,  but  I  Ve  got  to  take  little  Gladys  to  the 
dentist,"  and  "Are  you  going  on  to  Mrs.  Atterbury's 
lunch?" 

Rat-tat-tat  went  the  rococo  paper-knife.  Mrs.  Bul 
lion  arose  to  say  that  in  view  of  the  stirring  need  in 
the  homes  of  our  laboring  sisters  Mrs.  Duncombe's 
able  presentation  of  the  facts  had  manifested,  it  was 
clearly  the  duty  of  the  ladies  here  met  to  organ 
ize  themselves  into  a  body  to  be  known  by  a  name 
yet  to  be  selected,  for  the  creation  and  maintenance 
of  a  fund  in  aid  of  Mrs.  Duncombe's  work.  Here, 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF  TUNE  83 

being  plucked  by  the  gathers  of  her  gown  by  Mrs. 
Van  Shuter,  who  inquired  in  a  loud  whisper  how  long 
it  was  going  to  take,  Mrs.  Bullion  forgot  her  point, 
looked  vexed,  repeated  herself  in  a  vague  way,  and 
sat  down,  while  Mrs.  Boulter,  her  most  intimate  ene 
my,  cut  in,  and  proposed  to  vote  Mrs.  Van  Shuter 
into  the  chair  which  Mrs.  Bullion  had  made  sure  her 
self  to  occupy. 

Mrs.  Boulter,  a  beginner  in  society,  who  had  com 
piled  a  birthday  book  and  written  pretty  Christmas 
carols,  having  been  next  offered  and  accepted  as  sec 
retary,  Mrs.  Bullion,  the  wife  of  a  famous  banker,  was 
in  everybody's  mind  as  a  fitting  treasurer;  but  on 
the  principle,  perhaps,  that  kings  have  desired  to 
excel  as  locksmiths  or  players  upon  the  flute,  Mrs. 
Bullion  had  set  her  aifections  upon  the  other  post, 
and  was  highly  miffed  at  losing  it.  She  made  one  or 
two  public  observations  to  Mrs.  Boulter  of  an  acri 
monious  type,  to  which  Mrs.  Boulter  replied  airily, 
and  then  Mrs.  Bullion,  with  a  red  face,  gathered  her 
street  garment  about  her,  and,  pleading  an  immediate 
engagement,  left  the  room  and  the  committee. 

This  interruption  necessitating  whispered  consulta 
tion  of  those  in  chief  authority,  the  general  committee 
took  occasion  to  start  an  animated  discussion  as  to 
the  best  means  of  raising  the  money  said  to  be  re 
quired. 

"If  I  were  n't  so  awfully  afraid  of  the  sound  of 
my  own  voice,"  said  a  matron  with  a  family  of  bru 
nette  girls,  "  I  should  like  to  suggest  a  powder  ball  at 
the  Madison  Square  Assembly  Rooms,  with  men  and 
women  in  purest  white,  and  the  tickets  ten  dollars 


84:  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF  TUNE 

each.  I  saw  one  in  London  last  year,  and  the  effect 
was  positively  dream-like.'7 

"  A  white  ball  is  all  very  well  for  women  with  dark 
eyes  and  eyebrows/'  retorted  her  interlocutor,  a  sandy 
blonde,  "but  most  people  look  like  frights,  and  you 
never  get  the  powder  out  of  your  hair.  Say  what 
you  will,  nothing  pays  like  amateur  theatricals — " 

A  faint  chill  fell  upon  her  audience. 

" They  have  never  yet  paid  me"  said  a  voice.  " I 
don't  know  which  is  worse — to  have  to  sell  tickets  for 
them,  or  to  have  to  go." 

"I  am  sure,"  retorted  the  sandy  lady,  "those  in 
New  York  have  developed  the  most  charming  talent. 
Now,  I  don't  like  to  mention  it,  but  my  daughter  has 
written  a  three-act  play,  and  would  do  the  leading 
part.  Though,  of  course,  we  don't  wish  to  have  her 
appear  in  public,  she  is  considered  by  many  to  recite 
<Les  Deux  Pigeons'  exactly  like  Bernhardt,  and — for 
such  a  charity — " 

"There  is  a  most  deserving  person  I  know  who 
supports  her  husband  and  five  children  by  whistling 
beautifully" — began  a  benevolent  old  lady,  who  could 
get  no  hearing,  and  dropped  out. 

"  How  would  a  Greek  play  in  the  original  take  in 
New  York  ? "  ventured  a  lady  from  Boston. 

"I  'd  rather  sell  for  a  nigger  minstrel  show  or  an 
amateur  circus,"  answered  an  experienced  vender  of 
tickets,  whose  authority  was  law. 

"  Have  we  an  infant  pianist  among  us  ? " 

"  No  phenomena,  please." 

"A  bazar?" 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  85 

"Never." 

"A  Russian  tea?" 

"  The  same  old  fail-  disguised." 

"  Carmencita  in  a  studio  ? " 

"Bernhardt  in  i  Jean-Marie/  in  one  of  the  big  draw 
ing-rooms  ? " 

"  Sarah  would  know  better  than  to  go  on  the  Punch- 
and-Judy  stage  at  any  price — 

Rat-tat-tat  went  the  paper-knife.  Mrs.  Boulter, 
speaking  for  Mrs.  Van  Slmter,  whose  bronchitis  would 
not  allow  her  to  use  her  voice,  gracefully  suggested 
as  treasurer  a  lady  whose  support  would  be  of  the 
utmost  value  to  the  board,  and  proposed  Mrs.  Vernon. 
That  surprised  outsider  found  herself  elected  before 
she  could  say — if  she  had  been  inclined  to  say  any 
thing  so  coarse — Jack  Robinson. 

The  color  came  into  Mrs.  Vernon's  face.  She  lost 
her  studied  suavity  of  manner,  but  her  protest  was 
overcome.  She  was  placed  in  a  chair  near  Mrs.  Van 
Shuter,  whose  fondest  wish  was  now  to  hurry  this 
thing  through.  And  then  the  general  committee, 
from  whom  Mrs.  Van  Shuter's  countenance  made  no 
attempt  to  conceal  the  fact  that  she  was  torpid  with 
fatigue  and  wdth  hunger  for  her  midday  chop,  was 
dismissed,  to  meet  again  that  day  week,  at  the  same 
hour  and— 

"  Place,  shall  I  say,  dear  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  ? "  said  the 
Idol's  mouthpiece,  in  an  undertone. 

"  Oh,  I  think  not,"  said  the  chairwoman,  disappoint 
ingly.  "  Mrs.  Van  Loon  would  have  taken  them,  if 
she  'd  been  here.  Mrs.  Bullion  would  have  been  the 
6* 


86  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

one,  but  she  's  gone  home.  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know 
whom  to  ask,  and  I  don't  think  the  doctor  would  like 
me  to  have  to  think  of  anything." 

11  My  rooms  are  so  ridiculously  small/'  said  Mrs. 
Boulter,  looking  at  Mrs.  Vernon. 

Here  was  Mrs.  Yemen's  opportunity.  Why  did  she 
not  avail  herself  of  it  ?  Betty  Halliday,  observing  this, 
was  fairly  puzzled  at  her  reticence. 

"  Yes,  certainly ;  Mrs.  Yernon  is  the  one/'  said  Mrs. 
Yan  Shuter,  grasping  at  relief.  "  You  'd  better  tell 
them  now ;  it  will  save  Miss  Thompson  writing  little 
notes." 

"  I  shall  be  most  happy,"  said  Mrs.  Yernon,  stiffly, 
and,  Mrs.  Boulter  proclaiming  the  fact,  the  meeting 
broke  up  in  a  sea  of  small  talk. 

While  people  were  moving  (in  Mrs.  Yan  Shuter's 
eyes  far  too  slowly)  to  the  door,  Mrs.  Yernon,  whose 
feelings  may  have  been  said  to  have  passed  the  point 
of  words,  felt  her  hand  taken  in  the  slim  brown  kid 
fingers  of  Mrs.  Calliope  Duncombe. 

"So  you  won't  speak  to  me,  Luella?"  said  that 
saintly  personage.  "  I  did  n't  think  you  would  go 
back  on  so  very  old  a  friend.  It  gave  me  such  plea 
sure  to  be  of  use  to  you  to-day." 

"  It  would  n't  take  two  words  from  you,  Jane  Ketch- 
am,"  flashed  forth  a  low  answer,  "to  make  me  come 
out  before  all  these  women,  and  tell  'em  what  you 
are." 

"  No  ;  that  you  would  never  do,  Luella.  How  could 
you  explain — about  Judd's  Hotel,  you  know." 

"At  least,  I  'm  an  honest  woman  —  Oh!  I  wonder 
you  have  the  face — " 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF    TUNE  87 

"  Come,  Luella,  be  nice.  Did  I,  or  did  n't  I,  do  you 
a  good  turn  when  I  suggested  having  you  made  the 
treasurer  of  this  fashionable  fund  ? " 

"  I  don't  believe  it ;  if  you  did,  it  was  to  spite  me  in 
the  end.  But  there,  it  is  n't  the  first  time — what  '11 
you  take  to  drop  this  and  clear  out  ? " 

11  It  is  n't  money  I  need,  but  a  backing,  dear/'  said 
the  apostle  of  married  women's  rights.  "And,  for  the 
sake  of  old  times,  you  are  going  to  keep  dark  about 
me,  are  n't  you  ? " 

"  And  you  expect  me  to  help  you  in  your  frauds  — 
I  '11  declare  that  takes  the  lead,"  said  the  widow,  a 
dangerous  look  coming  into  her  eyes. 

"  Sh-sh  !  "  whispered  Mrs.  Buncombe.  "  Let  us  fin 
ish  this  talk  another  time.  Let  me  come  to  your  fine 
house  to-morrow,  and  give  me  lunch,  and  we  '11  find 
some  way  to  settle  the  matter  to  suit  you,  never  fear." 

"May  I  go  home  with  you,  Mrs.  Vernon?"  said 
Betty  Halliday,  coming  up  and  ignoring  the  meek 
bow  of  the  philanthropist.  "  I  've  a  letter  from  Nell, 
and  other  things  about  which  I  want  to  talk." 

"  Do  come,"  answered  the  widow,  gratefully,  while 
Mrs.  Buncombe  glided  away  into  the  center  of  a 
group  of  women,  eager  to  lavish  praises  upon  her  and 
to  receive  counsel  at  her  lips. 

"  That  woman !  "  mused  Betty,  as  they  drove  off  in 
the  brougham.  "  Where  have  I  seen  her  face  ?  I  've 
a  vague  idea  connecting  her  with  the  keeper  of  a 
bureau  for  placing  teachers,  which  broke  up  under  a 
cloud  a  year  or  two  ago.  But  I  'in  not  sure,  and  I  am 
sure  Duncombe  was  not  the  name.  Well,  I  suppose 
Mrs.  Van  Shuter  knows  where  she  got  her ;  but  to 


88  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

speak  frankly,  I  would  n't  trust  her  with  the  spoons. 
What  I  wanted  to  ask  you  is  if  you  think  Nell  and 
Jerry  have  suddenly  gone  mad.  My  last  letter  was 
from  the  hotel,  and  here,  in  this  morning's  papers,  is  a 
1  special  despatch '  from  Florida,  stating  that  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gerald  Vernon  are  enjoying  the  hospitalities  of 
Major  and  Mrs.  Shafto  at  the  Bungalow  near  Bada- 
joz  —  " 

"It  can't  be,"  said  the  widow,  overpowered.  She 
felt  to-day  as  if  she  were  stepping  into  space. 

"  That 's  not  all,"  said  Betty.  "Among  other  guests 
are  Miss  Kitty  Foote,  Mr.  Carteret  Leeds,  Mr.  Timo 
thy  Van  Loon,  and  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Hildegarde 
de  Lancey.  There  's  a  choice  houseful !  I  thought, 
as  I  dare  not  tell  my  mother,  you  would  n't  mind 
telegraphing  to  Jerry  to  come  home  and  all  will  be 
forgiven.  What  a  l school  for  wives'  he  has  taken 
his  to ! " 

ON  the  day  following,  a  visitor  whom  Mrs.  Yernon's 
servants  had  directions  to  admit  touched  the  button 
of  the  electric  bell  under  the  stately  portal  of  the 
corner  house  where  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  had  consented  to 
make  a  call  —  and  where  black  care  had  found  an 
entrance,  notwithstanding. 

Mrs.  Calliope  Duncombe,  delivering  up  her  umbrella 
and  removing  her  modest  overshoes  in  the  presence 
of  Mrs.  Vernon's  flunkeys,  in  a  wide  hall  where  an 
tique  tapestries  made  a  gloom  at  midday,  amid  rare 
carvings  and  costly  ceramics,  had  a  humorous  sense 
of  the  extremes  possible  to  American  fortune  within 
the  compass  of  a  quarter  of  a  century.  In  her  mind's 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  89 

eye,  she  saw  a  raw  frontier  town,  of  which  the  chief 
center  was  the  tavern  kept  by  Major  Judd,  known 
familiarly  as  "Buck."  She  saw  the  lean  "Major" 
presiding  over  the  bar,  or  ushering  his  patrons  into 
the  long,  bare  room  where  two  untidy  tables  were 
kept  forever  covered  with  spotted  cloths,  and  set  with 
casters,  pitchers,  thick  goblets,  and  dingy  knives  and 
forks,  with  the  red  or  green  glasses  full  of  tooth 
picks  which  formed  their  ornaments.  She  saw,  issu 
ing  from  the  pantry  door  and  whisking  smartly  about 
these  tables,  to  do  the  service  of  the  boarders  amid 
an  incense  of  kitchen  smoke,  two  girls — one  spare 
and  sickly,  the  other  blooming  above  her  sordid  sur 
roundings  in  the  effulgence  of  health  and  beauty  and 
animal  spirits.  She  saw  the  pale  girl  look  with  envy 
after  the  rosy  one,  who  shot  like  a  meteor  among  the 
guests,  bandying  jests,  repelling  impudence,  carrying 
all  before  her. 

"  If  you  will  please  step  up  into  the  morning-room, 
madam,  Mrs.  Vernon  will  see  you  there,"  said  a  portly, 
low-voiced  functionary,  who  wore  clothes  such  as  old 
"Buck"  Judd  had  been  married  and  buried  in — but 
with  a  difference. 

The  mistress  of  the  house  was  sitting  before  a  wood 
fire  in  the  depths  of  a  low  arm-chair,  the  morning's 
papers  and  a  handful  of  notes  and  cards  torn  from 
their  envelopes  on  the  table  at  her  side.  Morning 
sunlight  came  warmly  through  embroidered  stuffs  of 
golden  hue,  falling  over  divans  and  couches,  cabinets 
and  tables,  each  of  its  kind  the  best,  and  chosen  by  an 
artist  to  be  grouped  in  this  favored  interior.  The 
walls  and  many  shelves  and  brackets  were  encumbered 


90  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

with  Mrs.  Vernon' s  well-known  collection  of  "  boudoir 
porcelain,"  sold  in  Paris  the  year  before  with  the  effects 
of  a  lyric  queen,  to  whom  they  had  been  given  by  their 
inheritor,  a  Russian  prince.  Mrs.  Buncombe  did  not 
know  the  value  in  dollars  of  this  eggshell  loveliness 
glittering  softly  on  every  side  of  her,  but  it  brought 
to  mind  a  droll  suggestion  of  the  stone-china  cups  and 
plates  and  saucers  and  "sauce-plates"  and  bird-bath 
dishes  she  and  Luella  used  to  mop,  and  drain,  and 
wipe,  and  put  away,  till  they  hated  the  very  sight  oi: 
them. 

Mrs.  Vernon  wore  nothing  that  was  not  sent  out 
to  her  from  her  man  milliner  in  Paris,  who  had  con 
vinced  her  that  in  order  fairly  to  illustrate  his  ge 
nius  she  must  commit  no  infidelities  to  his  celebrated 
atelier.  Her  morning-robe  was  of  an  oriental  red 
stuff  shaded  like  the  plumage  of  a  bird,  bordered 
with  black  fur,  and  over  it  a  sort  of  surtout  of  Car 
melite  black  serge,  girdled  with  ropes  of  gold — a 
freak  of  luxury  attempting  but  not  quite  resigned  to 
go  into  eclipse.  The  effect  upon  her  mature  beauty 
was  to  soften  and  yet  enhance  it,  and  fully  justified 
the  whim  of  the  gown's  creator.  This,  again,  Calliope 
Jane's  keen  gaze  made  note  of,  in  contrast  with  the 
Sunday  best  of  Miss  Martha  Luella  Judd. 

Mrs.  Vernon  had  not  slept  well,  and  had  broken  her 
fast  since  the  night  before  with  only  a  cup  of  coffee 
and  a  few  black  Hamburg  grapes  at  nine  A.  M. ;  so 
that  she  felt  absolutely  unable  to  enter,  until  after 
luncheon,  into  a  conversation  that  threatened  to  be 
trying  at  the  best.  Embarrassed  by  Mrs.  Buncombe's 
satirical  study  of  herself  and  surroundings,  she  took 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  91 

a  stitch  or  two  in  a  table-scarf  she  was  embroidering1, 
dropped  it  on  the  floor,  drew  toward  her  a  Venetian 
jug  of  white  hyacinths  and  rearranged  the  flowers, 
and  finally  got  up  and  walked  to  the  window,  wThere 
she  remained,  turning  her  back  upon  her  guest. 

"  That 's  it.  Keep  movin'.  Seems  more  like  you, 
Luella,  to  be  stirriii'  around  a  bit,"  said  Calliope  Jane, 
in  an  admiring  voice. 

u  Luncheon  is  served,  if  you  please,  madam,''  said 
the  butler,  making  a  cavalier-seul  movement  within  the 
doorway. 

The  two  ladies  sat  down  in  the  vast  refectory  at  a 
table  of  black  oak,  square  and  massive,  displaying 
upon  a  centerpiece  of  fair  linen  edged  with  convent 
lace 'a  pierced  silver  dish  containing  growing  ferns, 
together  with  sundry  odd  devices  in  silver  to  hold  fruit 
and  sweets,  and  flagons  for  claret  set  in  silver  open 
work. 

"  My !  "  said  Mrs.  Duncombe,  in  the  artless  accent  of 
her  youth.  "  You  keep  a  considerable  sight  o'  plated 
ware,  don't  you,  Luella  ?  And  these  thin  glasses  round 
my  plate  —  I  be  'most  afraid  to  touch  'em,  for  fear 
they  '11  fly  right  out  o'  my  hand." 

"  Consomme  ? "  said  the  butler,  in  her  ear. 

"  What  's  this  in  the  little  cups  —  tea  ?  No,  sir,  I  'm 
'bliged  to  you ;  I  make  it  a  rule  never  to  fill  my  stum- 
mick  up  with  liquids  when  I  start  in  to  eat.  That  ;s  a 
real  pritty  tidy  you  Ve  got  in  the  middle  of  the  table, 
Luella,  an'  sensible,  for  I  s'pose  you  ca'late  to  save 
your  table-cloth  clean  for  dinner,  and  washin'  's  power 
ful  dear  in  New  York  City." 

There  were  three  men  in  attendance,  and  a  ghost  of 


92  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

a  grin  hovered  over  the  face  of  the  youngest,  at  that 
moment  laboriously  engaged  in  carrying  a  fork  from 
a  side-table  to  a  tray.  Mrs.  Vernon  saw  it,  and  her 
soul  waxed  hot.  She  began  to  talk  rapidly,  continu 
ously —  her  visitor,  the  while,  gazing  upon  her  with 
that  enjoying  exasperating  smile. 

•'  La  me  suz,  Luella,"  she  chimed  in,  at  the  first  con 
venient  pause.  "  T'  hear  your  talk  does  carry  me  back 
to  Jtidd's.  How  well  I  remember  your  pa  sayin'  once, 
'  That  gal  o'  mine,  gentlemen,  can  talk  the  socks  off  'n 
anybody  I  ever  see.' " 

Mrs.  Vernon  started,  dropped  her  napkin,  and  re 
claimed  it  with  a  shaking  hand.  It  was  not  the  matter 
only,  but  the  manner  of  the  speech.  Not  the  least  of 
Mrs.  Buncombe's  accomplishments  was  her  inimitable 
faculty  of  reproducing  tones. 

"  Often  and  often,"  pursued  the  visitor,  pensively,  "  I 
think  I  can  see  the  old  man  sittin'  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
under  the  drinkin'- water  bucket,  with  his  feet  on  the 
railiii'  of  the  hotel-poach,  and  gittin'  up  every  now  and 
then  to  go  back  into  the  bar.  Don't  you  remember, 
when  he  'd  had  about  enough,  an'  was  f  eelin'  real  good, 
how  he  'd  always  shut  one  eye  an'  say :  ^  I  'in  a  plain 
Blue  Grass  man,  boys ;  ain't  got  no  book-larnin',  an' 
git  my  relijun  onst  a  year  reg'lar — but  I  was  bawn  an' 
raised  in  the  finest  country  on  God's  yeth,  an'  don't 
you  forgit  it,  nuther'?" 

Mrs.  Vernon  was  spared  witnessing  the  effect  of  this 
impersonation,  by  the  disappearance  behind  the  screen 
of  two  of  her  servants,  while  the  butler  kept  discreetly 
at  her  back.  She  emptied  her  water-glass,  and  be 
stowed  a  pleading  look  upon  her  relentless  guest. 


SWEET   BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  93 

"The  stage  loses  an  accomplished  actress  in  you, 
Jane/'  she  said.  "  I  wonder  you  don't  try  giving  char 
acter  sketches  in  people's  drawing-rooms.  It  would 
surely  be  a  success,  and — perhaps — a  safer  method 
of  securing  what  you  want." 

"  What !  you  advise  it ! "  said  Calliope,  beaming. 
"  I  am  certain  you  'd  recognize  my  models,  if  no  one 
else  found  me  out.  But  don't  trouble  your  head  about 
me,  dear.  I  'm  doing  splendidly,  thanks  to  the  kind 
ladies  of  New  York  society,  who  are  always  in  want 
of  an  outlet  for  their  zeal." 

The  dreadful  meal  proceeded  to  its  close,  and  Mrs. 
Duncombe  having  afforded,  as  it  were,  a  sample  of 
her  skill,  relaxed  her  efforts  in  that  particular  line 
of  torment.  When  the  two  women  were  again  alone, 
Mrs.  Vemon,  with  a  sudden  departure  from  her  at 
tempted  indifference,  confronted  her  opponent  boldly. 

"Was  your  life  in  the  House  of  Correction,  while 
you  were  serving  a  two-years'  sentence  for  getting 
money  under  false  pretences,  so  much  to  your  taste 
that  you  want  to  go  back  to  it,  Jane  ? " 

"  I  am  the  widow  of  a  Union  soldier  who  died  for 
his  country  at  Antietam,"  said  Calliope,  dropping  her 
eyes.  "And  if  I  seek  to  eke  out  my  modest  pension 
of  eight  dollars  a  month  from  the  Government  by  the 
use  of  the  talents  with  which  God  has  gifted  me — " 

"  Rubbish  !  "  interrupted  the  other.  "  Come,  now, 
there  's  no  use  wasting  my  time.  I  know  you,  root 
and  branch,  Jane  Ketcham  ;  and  when  I  saw  you,  yes 
terday,  sitting  up  among  all  those  women  you  had 
taken  in,  looking  like  the  cat  that  had  been  at  the 
cream,  I  made  my  mind  up,  straight." 


94  SWEET   BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  To  do  what,  Luella  ? "  asked  Calliope,  still  meekly. 

"  To  force  you  to  back  out  of  this  business  without 
open  scandal,  as  you  suspected  when  you  saw  me,  or 
you  would  n't  have  tried  getting  me  upon  the  board 
to  be  a  party  to  your  fraud." 

"Now  you  are  getting  angry,  dear,  and  in  your 
tantrums  you  always  lose  your  grip.  Just  keep  calm, 
and  consider  what  exposing  me  will  do  for  you.  It  '11 
be  a  thousand  times  worse  for  the  public  to  have  a 
full  account  now  of  your  life  as  a  table-girl  at  Judd's, 
where  old  Vernon  picked  you  up  and  married  you, 
than  it  would  have  been  before  your  son  made  his 
aristocratic  match.  Now,  just  as  you  are  getting  into 
the  Four  Hundred,  fancy  it !  And  I  think  you  may 
trust  me,  love,  to  do  the  thing  thoroughly  when  I  set 
out  to  have  my  revenge." 

"And  I  have  given — not  paid — you  hundreds  of 
dollars — would  have  done  anything — to  keep  you  a 
decent  woman,"  cried  the  widow,  whose  passion,  long 
repressed,  had  by  this  time  burst  its  bounds.  She 
broke  into  a  storm  of  weeping,  at  which  Calliope 
looked  serenely  on.  When  Luella  "  lost  her  grip,"  it 
had  always  been  the  advance  signal  of  Calliope's  suc 
cess.  In  this  paroxysm,  the  untamed  creature  hinted 
at  in  the  smiling  portrait  below-stairs  revealed  herself 
without  restraint. 

"  There  —  there,  Luella,"  said  the  visitor,  at  last. 
"  You  '11  cry  yourself  down  sick,  you  know  you  will. 
Take  the  thing  quietly,  as  I  do.  Lord  knows,  you  Ve 
got  lots  to  comfort  you." 

"  Will  no  money  pay  you  to  give  this  up,  and  leave 
New  York?" 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  97 

"  Judging  from  appearances,  I  shall  soon  command 
what  will  supply  my  necessities  for  the  present.  But 
can't  you  understand — you,  Luella,  who  have  made 
such  a  struggle  to  know  the  right  sort  I  It  is  social 
place,  the  regard  of  the  community,  I  need  most,  now. 
Six  months  ago,  I  was,  under  the  lowly  name  of 
Madame  Isaacson,  an  astrologist  in  Boston,  telling 
fortunes  at  twenty-five  cents  each;  and,  my  dear,  I 
nearly  starved.  Now — well,  you  saw  for  yourself 
how  the  great  ladies  of  Gotham  swarmed  around  me. 
Do  you  suppose  I  mean  to  renounce  all  this  until — 
when  —  I  am  obliged?" 

"  You  are  a  shameless  wretch,"  said  the  widow,  be 
tween  her  teeth.  "I  should  like  to  call  a  policeman 
and  have  you  put  out  of  my  house." 

"  But  you  won't,  love.  I  know  you.  You  have  n't 
moral  courage  enough  for  that.  Ah,  it  was  always 
such  a  relief,  Luella,  to  talk  freely  before  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  do  ? " 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  do  ?  If  you  can't  be  satisfied 
to  keep  quiet,  and  patronize  me  with  the  rest  of  your 
swell  friends,  I  should  almost  suggest  your  leaving 
town,  instead  of  me." 

Poor  Mrs.  Vernon,  to  whom  this  episode  was  but 
the  culmination  of  many  trials  from  the  same  source, 
looked  at  her  old  acquaintance  in  dismay.  Leave 
town !  Now,  at  the  moment  of  Gerald's  return  with 
the  young  wife  who  was  to  be  her  most  powerful 
lever  in  forcing  her  way  upward !  When  her  enter 
tainments  for  the  bridal  pair,  that  were  intended  to 
conquer  all  lingering  opposition  to  her  advance,  were 
planned  and  waiting !  Now,  when  her  lip  was  on 
7 


98  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

the  cup !  The  climax  of  her  tragic  comedy  was 
reached. 

"Me  leave  town?"  she  said,  suddenly  dropping 
into  the  dialect  of  a  distant  but  not  forgotten  past. 
"  Well,  of  all  the  impudence  !  I  '11  tell  you  what,  Jane 
Ketcham,  I  have  had  my  fill  of  this.  Walk  out  of  my 
house  this  minute,  and  never  set  foot  in  it  again." 

"  I  am  going,  dear,"  murmured  the  invincible  Jane ; 
"  though,  seeing  you  have  n't  been  troubled  with  me 
in  two  years,  you  might  have  had  a  little  more  patience 
now.  But  before  I  go,  Luella,  let  me  warn  you  that 
the  best  way  out  of  your  present  complications  is  to 
— let  me  see — have  a  sudden  indisposition  before  the 
next  meeting  of  the  board,  and  resign  because  your 
physician  has  advised  a  change  of  air." 

"  This,  then,  is  your  little  game  ?  This  is  what  you 
wanted  from  the  first  ? " 

"If  we  can't  work  together,  we  are  best  apart,  cer 
tainly,"  said  Jane,  drawing  her  veil  over  her  poke- 
bonnet,  and  buttoning  the  brown  gloves.  "Might  I 
ask  that  butler  of  yours  where  he  put  my  silk  umbrella 
— a  testimonial  of  esteem  from  an  Ibsen  class  I  had 
at  a  summer  resort  a  little  while  ago?  I  think  your 
butler  has  a  soul  for  the  drama,  Luella,  for  his  face 
was  eloquent  with  appreciation  while  I  impersonated 
your  poor  dear  papa.  Good -by,  again,  and  don't 
trouble  to  see  me  to  the  door.  I  shall  not  be  surprised 
to  hear  of  your  leaving  town  before  I  Ve  a  chance  to 
visit  you  again." 


VII 


N  time/'  said  Gerald,  consulting  his 
watch,  as  the  Washington  express 
slackened  speed  in  the  station  at 
Jersey  City.  "  Come,  Nell — has  that 
woman  got  your  bag  and  wraps? 
Hughes  will  go  on  ahead  to  find  the 
carriage  on  the  other  side  —  I  '11  swear  it  's  a  jolly 
thing  to  fill  one's  lungs  again  with  our  own  North 
Eiver  air." 

Eleanor,  quietly,  and  with  a  lagging  step,  kept  at 
her  husband's  side  as  they  followed  the  throng  on  the 
platform,  through  the  ferry-house  to  the  boat,  thence 
to  the  forward  deck,  where  she  leaned  against  the  rail 
and  gazed  over  at  the  roofs  and  spires  of  her  birth 
place,  quitted  some  short  two  months  before.  Jerry, 
growing  more  exhilarated  as  the  salt  breeze  swept 
from  him  the  remnants  of  stale  railway  smoke,  hardly 
glanced  at  her.  His  thoughts  had  sprung  forward 
with  a  bound  to  his  old  familiar  life  and  association 
with  other  men,  interrupted  by  an  episode  that,  how 
ever  charming,  was  now  parcel  of  the  past.  A  hun 
dred  images  of  his  active,  popular,  buoyant  young 
manhood  swarmed  around  him,  and  tickled  his  imagi 
nation  with  the  joy  of  return  into  their  broad  arena. 

99 


100  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

When  he  caught  sight,  standing  against  the  opposite 
railing,  and  eying  him  without  appearing  to  wish  to 
do  so,  of  a  man  whom  he  had  known  at  a  club  to  which 
both  belonged,  having  but  a  tepid  liking  for  him 
hitherto,  his  heart  expanded  into  radiant  friendship 
for  the  more  recent  dweller  in  the  scenes  to  which  he 
was  going  back. 

"Why,  that  >s  Telfair,"  he  said  to  Eleanor,  with 
animation.  "He  's  been  to  Washington  about  the 
Stryker  case,  of  course.  If  you  don't  mind  my  leav 
ing  you  a  minute, — you  are  all  right  here, —  I  '11  be 
back  at  once.  I  'd  like  to  find  out  from  Telfair  how 
that  Stryker  business  is  likely  to  come  out." 

Eleanor  smiled,  nodding  assent.  When  he  left  her, 
she  turned  her  back  on  the  crowd  and  leaned  over  the 
rail,  staring  down  into  the  green  combs  of  the  waves, 
trying  to  keep  hot  tears  out  of  her  eyes.  During  the 
latter  part  of  their  journey,  the  unconscious  Gerald 
had  shown  her  plainly  the  sort  of  relief  he  felt  in  get 
ting  back.  As  if  to  make  up  for  it,  he  had  redoubled 
endearments,  and  was  again  the  bright,  fascinating 
fellow  who  had  wooed  her,  the  fond  young  husband 
of  the  earliest  married  days.  He  had  done  his  best  to 
atone  for  the  frequent  shows  of  petulance,  of  boyish 
tyranny,  that  had  come  thick  and  fast  since  the  unfor 
tunate  day  of  their  arrival  at  the  Bungalow. 

That  visit!  Eleanor's  cheeks  crimsoned  again  at 
thought  of  it.  She  would  have  liked  to  blot  out  for 
ever  the  memory  of  her  hysterical  pleading  with  her 
husband  to  take  her  away  on  the  morrow  after  the 
scene  of  the  midnight  ballet ;  of  his  vexed,  then  angry, 
remonstrance  against  her  prudishness ;  of  her  dismay 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  101 

when  she  found  that,  in  the  fast  society  the  home-bred, 
pure-minded  girl  found  so  offensive  to  her  instincts, 
he  was  not  only  at  home  but  admirably  entertained. 

Eleanor  vanquished,  but  not  convinced,  they  had 
stayed  on  at  the  Bungalow  until  after  the  first  limit 
fixed.  The  four  days  of  it  had  been  forty  in  her  sight. 
A  letter  from  Gerald's  mother,  urging  him  to  return 
home,  had  added  to  his  impatience  of  feminine  re 
straint.  He  accused  Eleanor  of  being  in  league  with 
his  mother  to  keep  him  in  leading-strings,  and  put  the 
offending  missive  in  the  fire.  And  Mrs.  Shafto  had 
somehow  become  aware  of  all  these  petty  infelicities, 
and  had  ventured  to  counsel  and  sympathize  with 
Nell,  while  giving  Gerald  opportunities  to  calm  his 
excitement  in  the  soothing  society  of  his  fair  friend 
Hildegarde. 

Hildegarde !  Eleanor  hated  herself  for  dwelling 
ever  so  lightly  on  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that  had 
sprung  up  in  her  mind  at  Badajoz.  She  had  put  it 
aside,  and  trampled  on  the  base  temptation  to  mis 
judge  her  husband.  Did  not  Gerald  come  back  to  her 
from  Hildegarde's  companionship,  swearing  that  poor 
dear  creature  was  very  pitiful,  ringing  the  changes  on 
her  wrongs,  but  that  he  had  learned  to  prefer  a  woman 
with  a  future  to  a  woman  with  a  past,  and  was  con 
tent  to  leave  the  task  of  consolation  to  Mr.  Timothy 
Van  Loon  ?  Was  not  Hildegarde  herself  all  that  was 
tender,  sympathetic,  admiring,  to  Eleanor  ?  For  Mrs. 
Shafto  Nell  had  conceived  a  dislike  that  did  not  lessen 
upon  acquaintance.  But  Mrs.  de  Lancey,  in  her  re 
fined  gentleness,  her  winning  deprecation  of  unkind 
judgment — what  was  she  but  a  flower  beaten  from 
7* 


102  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

its  stalk  by  a  tempest  ?  One  must  be  warped  by  un 
worthy  prejudice  indeed  to  have  such  fancies  as  oc 
casionally  crept  into  Eleanor's  brain  concerning  her. 
Ah,  well — whatever  Jerry's  offenses  were,  they  had 
always  been  met  in  loving  condonation  by  his  wife. 
To  her,  every  hair  of  his  head  was  now  dear  with  a 
tenderness  unimagined  in  her  girlhood.  They  were 
on  their  way  to  the  new  home,  where  the  world  was 
to  be  shut  out,  and  they  two  were  to  reign  supreme. 
Everything  that  fortune  could  do  to  lend  external 
brightness  to  their  lives  had  been  done ;  why,  then, 
did  Eleanor  sigh  again  at  the  close  of  her  reverie? 
Jerry  returned  to  her  as  the  boat  drew  in  to  the  slip. 

"  Telfair  's  a  capital  fellow,"  he  said  in  great  good 
humor.  "He  's  been  telling  me  all  that  's  gone  on 
about  town  and  at  the  clubs.  Seems  to  me  we  Ve 
been  away  a  thousand  years.  There  's  Hughes  gone 
ahead,  and  your  new  footman  waiting  near  the  gang 
plank,  Mrs.  Vernon.  Blest  if  I  remember  the  fellow's 
name,  do  you  ?  Nell,  I  'm  afraid  we  '11  be  a  regular 
pair  of  Veneerings  —  that  couple  in  Dickens,  don't 
you  know? — in  our  new  house,  with  the  new  ser 
vants  and  horses,  and  all  that.  I  wonder  which  of 
the  family  will  be  there.  I  don't  believe  my  mother  '11 
come,  but  I  hardly  think  yours  will  be  able  to  keep 
away — why,  what  a  long  face  you  have !  Not  a  bit 
what  it  ought  to  be." 

Nell  forced  a  smile  in  answer  to  his  rattling  chal 
lenge.  She  was  thinking :  "  Oh,  I  hope  mama  won't 
see  me  till  I  Ve  had  a  chance  to  get  over  this  little 
doleful  fit,  for  which  there  is  no  reason.  She  'd  be 
so  quick  to  read  my  face;  and  Betty's  eyes  are  so 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  103 

sharp,  and  dear  Trix  loves  me  so,  I  could  n't  bear  for 
them  to  imagine  I  'm  not  the  happiest  woman  in  the 
world." 

Even  when  leaning  back  on  the  cushioned  lining  of 
her  brougham, — that  "dark  myrtle-green  satin"  Trix 
and  she  had  so  often  pictured  as  the  limit  of  their 
luxurious  desires, — Eleanor's  mind  had  not  regained 
its  normal  calm.  She  felt  ashamed  of  herself  that 
the  home-coming,  so  happy  in  anticipation,  should  be 
thus  clouded  j  and  with  a  strong  effort  lent  herself  to 
Jerry's  joyous  mood. 

To  him,  the  squalor  of  the  down-town  region 
through  which  his  high-stepping  cobs  minced  dain 
tily,  as  if  despising  it,  was  full  of  renewed  interest. 

With  the  zest  of  the  returning  cockney,  he  inhaled 
the  faded  air  of  the  dull  thoroughfares  pregnant  with 
the  smell  of  over-ripe  foreign  fruits,  clothing  of  hur 
rying  crowds,  contents  of  shops  open  to  the  sidewalk, 
black  slime  of  uncleaned  streets.  He  looked  up  at  the 
skeleton  trestlework  along  which  the  elevated  trains 
went  incessantly  whizzing  overhead,  with  satisfaction, 
as  a  symbol  of  the  busy  metropolitan  life.  The  roar 
overhead,  the  rumble  of  trucks  upon  the  granite,  the 
ceaseless  swarming  of  eager  pedestrians,  the  tinkle  of 
street-car  bells,  the  cries  of  children  playing  on  the 
sidewalk  amid  all  this  hurly-burly,  the  shouts  over 
repeated  blockings  of  the  way  by  a  mass  of  vehicles, 
—  all  blending  to  swell  the  chant  of  a  great  city  in 
business  hours, —  to  Jerry  were  welcome  music. 

"  What  a  change  from  our  sylvan  solitudes ! " 
Eleanor  said,  with  another  sigh. 

"  Change !  I  should  think  so,"  he  answered  cheer- 


104  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

ily.  "  Why,  you  silly  girl,  you  did  n't  expect  to  go 
on  philandering  for  a  year  and  a  day,  did  you? 
We  're  part  of  the  community  now  j  come  back  to 
take  our  place  in  actual  life,  out  of  our  lovers'  para 
dise,  that  had  to  end." 

That  had  to  end !  Poor  foolish  Nell,  her  young 
heart  straining  to  hold  on  to  its  ideals,  felt  her  eyes 
fill  with  tears.  There  are  times  when  listening  to 
common  sense  is  like  lying  down  upon  paving-stones. 

Soon  they  had  left  the  haunts  of  work-a-day,  and 
come  out  into  Fifth  Avenue  at  an  hour  when  the  lei 
sure  world  was  in  full  enjoyment  of  a  brilliant  after 
noon  in  spring.  From  victorias  and  open  landaus 
rolling  toward  them  head  after  head  inclined  in  gra 
cious  salutation.  Men,  determinately  appareled  after 
Piccadilly  modes,  wearing  well-made  cheviot  body- 
coats,  well-kempt  silk  hats,  well-chosen  flowers  in 
their  buttonholes,  carrying  sticks,  and  walking  in  the 
long,  easy  stride  of  the  patrician  idlers  of  Park  Row, 
bowed  to  them  from  the  sidewalks,  whence  also  came 
airy  greetings  from  a  larger  number  of  the  other 
sex  who  have  no  need  to  seek  Mayfair  models  to 
turn  themselves  out  in  the  prettiest  dress-parade  in 
Christendom. 

On  such  an  afternoon  the  thoroughfare  of  New 
York's  fashion  is  at  its  best.  The  huge  buildings  of 
cream-colored  and  of  buff  brick,  with  their  delicate 
traceries  and  finials  of  carvings,  which  have  been 
erected  by  modern  art  to  take  away  our  reproach  of 
monotonous  brownstone,  seem  to  catch  and  throw  off 
the  sunlight.  Many  houses  in  the  older  and  lower 
part  have  their  strips  of  green  turf  dight  with  pan- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  105 

sies  and  English  daisies.  Flowers  are  everywhere: 
in  the  bonnets,  in  posies  worn  upon  the  breast,  be 
hind  windows  where  Easter  lilies  rear  their  pure 
crests,  in  balconies  and  boxes,  in  street-barrows,  in 
the  baskets  of  humbler  venders.  Roses,  azaleas,  hya 
cinths,  geraniums,  ferns,  appear  to  be  loitering  on  call. 
From  Washington  Square  to  Madison  Square,  where 
leaves  have  just  ventured  from  winter  bondage,  and 
in  the  green  precincts  of  which  the  busy  New  York 
day  stands  still  to  breathe  awhile,  as  on  both  sides  of 
the  long  avenue  to  the  Plaza,  nearly  two  miles  and  a 
half  in  all,  there  is  a  never-ending  procession  of  pe 
destrians,  who  in  temper  illustrate  frankly  the  Amer 
ican  virtues  of  good  humor  and  self-respect,  as  they 
push  ahead,  amused  at  the  passing  show  of  the  vehi 
cles  of  luxury  and  pleasure  that  throng  between. 

In  a  side-street  west  of  Fifth  Avenue  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gerald  Vernon's  home  revealed  itself  by  a  blush  of 
newly  painted  brick,  a  series  of  crisp  muslin  curtains 
veiling  the  four  rows  of  windows,  a  variety  of  new 
brass-  and  iron- work  and  plate-glass  about  the  swing 
ing  doors  of  the  vestibule,  and  balcony-boxes  newly 
filled  with  daisies  and  myosotis. 

When  they  stopped  by  the  curbstone,  Gerald,  con 
scious  of  a  shamefaced  desire  to  avoid  the  notice  of 
possible  observers  in  Numbers  14  and  18,  glanced 
about  him  nervously  before  inviting  his  bride  to 
alight.  But  in  the  cold-blooded  current  of  town  life, 
where  the  casualties  of  birth,  death,  and  marriage  pass 
often  unheard  of  by  an  adjoining  neighbor,  their 
home-coming  was  unnoticed  save  by  an  Italian  gen 
tleman  grinding  with  maddening  deliberation  from  a 


106  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

barrel-organ,  "  Down  went  McGinty  to  the  bottom  of 
the  sea,  Dressed  in  his  best  snit  of  clothes/'  whose 
smile,  as  he  doffed  his  hat,  was  conventionally  blank. 

"  But  for  the  precedent,"  said  Gerald,  "  I  'd  give  that 
fellow  twenty-five  cents  for  treating  ns  like  regular 
old  married  hacks.  No !  basta,  signor,  allez-vous-en 
— •  get  out,  for  Heaven's  sake  !  Now,  Nell,  if  you  don't 
say  this  is  better  than  a  Florida  hotel !  " 

With  a  word  of  shy  greeting  to  her  new  domestic 
staff,  Eleanor  went  from  room  to  room,  suspecting 
Trix  in  ambush,  her  heart  warm  with  the  thought 
that  mama  might  be  hidden  behind  some  portiere. 
Evidences  of  their  loving  work  were  everywhere :  in 
the  ordering  of  furniture  as  Nell  liked  it,  in  the  judi 
cious  distribution  of  bridal  gifts.  Up-stairs,  in  a 
sunny  room  where  Nell's  books  and  Gerald's  met 
upon  low  shelves,  a  divan  was  revealed  whereon 
Jerry's  lazy  length  might  sprawl ;  Nell's  wicker  chair 
stood  on  a  bearskin  by  the  tea-table,  before  a  couple 
of  logs  burning  softly  in  the  fireplace  of  ivory  tiles, 
and  here  the  married  pair  brought  their  explorations 
to  a  halt. 

"  They  must  have  just  left  the  house,"  Eleanor  said, 
with  a  burst  of  girlish  tenderness.  "  Oh  !  Jerry  dar 
ling,  how  much  better  home  people's  love  is  than  any 
thing  the  world  can  give  you  if  it  tries  !  " 

"  Hullo  !  They  've  got  all  my  old  college  pictures 
in  here,"  Jerry  rejoined,  well  pleased.  "  What 's  that 
scratching  under  the  sofa,  Nell  ?  By  George,  I  believe 
it 's  Nip." 

And  Nip  it  was,  Trix's  second  self,  her  inseparable 
fox-terrier,  who,  with  a  muffled  bark,  darted  out  from 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT    OF   TUNE  107 

beneath  a  couch,  sliding  partly  on  his  head,  in  his 
effort  to  be  rid  of  a  note  tied  to  his  collar  with  a 
large  orange  bow. 

"It 's  from  Trix,  of  course.  Be  still,  Nip  dear,  till 
I  get  it  off,"  cried  Eleanor,  as  Nip  bounded  into  her 
lap  in  rapturous  welcome  and  desire  to  be  rid  of  his 
encumbrance. 

Read  the  young  couple,  cheek  to  cheek : 

My  dearest  Nell  and  Jerry :  What  it  will  cost  me  to  sneak 
out  the  basement  way  as  you  go  up  the  front  steps  you  can 
never  know,  but  mama  and  Betty  have  left  me  here  till  the  lasl 
minute,  making  me  promise  not  to  show  an  eyelash  when  you 
come.  You  are  to  have  your  first  dinner  to  yourselves ;  and 
there  are  sweetbreads,  and  birds,  and  little  things  that  you 
can't  have  every  day,  I  know,  and  that  Nip  and  I  just  love.  We 
have  been  in  the  kitchen  interviewing  the  cook,  and  there  's 
nothing  we  've  not  found  out.  Mind,  don't  be  at  the  table  a 
minute  after  eight,  for  we  are  all  coming  then,  and  I  've  so 
much  to  say,  I  can't  hold  it  in  —  oh  !  I  'm  just  dying  to  stay  and 
talk.  Nip  knows  this  is  your  house,  for  he  has  gone  under  the 
sofa  and  is  about  to  take  a  nap,  as  I  told  him,  and  he  would 
never  do  that  in  any  stranger's.  So  welcome,  welcome,  wel 
come  home,  from  your  ever  loving 

TRIX. 

P.  S.  —  We  've  got  places  for  all  the  wedding  presents  but 
Mrs.  Cranston's  bothering  clock,  and  that  's  in  the  third  story 
back.  Cousin  Sarah's  vase  is  on  the  lowest  shelf  of  the  Indian 
cabinet,  where  nobody  can  see  it.  Old  Norah  would  break  her 
heart  if  you  did  n't  use  her  crazy-quilt,  so  I  've  put  it  on  your 
lounge,  and  I  know  you  '11  let  it  stay. 

N.  B.  —  La  cuisiniere  est  pen  aimable  envers  mon  cher  Nip, 
et  je  la  deteste  ;  mais  n'importe,  la  vieillc  clwse  ne  peut  pas  lire 
ceci ! 

Where  now  were  Eleanor's  fears,  tremors,  sad  re 
membrances  ?  Vanished,  swept  away  by  a  heartening 


108  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

breeze.  When  eight  o'clock  brought  with  it  her  dear 
ones,  the  first  evening  at  home  closed  in  nnbroken 
peace,  even  though  Jerry,  who  had  promised  to  finish 
it  with  his  mother,  bade  her  not  trouble  to  sit  up  for 
him,  as  he  might  look  in  later  at  the  club. 

"I  hope  Mrs.  Vernon  is  not  feeling  seriously  ill," 
said  Mrs.  Halliday,  who  had  made  up  her  mind  to 
inaugurate  the  new  era  with  all  that  was  needful  in 
the  way  of  Christian  suavity. 

"I  don't  know — I  imagine  not,"  Jerry  answered 
shortly.  He  had  not  recovered  from  the  letter  of  re 
buke  for  taking  his  wife  to  Badajoz,  and  in  his  heart 
thought  his  mother  was  sulking  at  home  to  punish 
him. 


VIII 


HE  second  meeting  of  the  "  Wo 
man's  Society  for  the  Legal  Relief 
of  Oppressed  Wives/7  after  various 
delays,  took  place,  not  at  the  house 
of  Mrs.  Vernon,  whose  physician  had 
declared  that  lady  totally  unable  to 
bear  the  strain  of  further  participancy  in  work  for 
the  public  good,  but  at  the  mansion  of  no  less  a  dig 
nitary  than  Mrs.  Van  Loon,  born  in  the  American 
purple,  married  in  early  youth  to  a  great  fortune,  and 
backed  by  an  actual  pedigree  as  respectable  and  solid 
as  any  in  the  land.  How  this  came  about  may  be 
briefly  explained. 

Mrs.  Van  Loon,  who,  at  the  time  of  the  first  meet 
ing,  had  been  on  her  way  across  the  continent  from 
Santa  Barbara  (whither  she  had  taken  Mr.  Van  Loon 
for  the  benefit  of  his  ailing  throat),  arrived  in  town 
to  hear  how  clever  Mrs.  Boulter  had  succeeded  in 
wresting  the  reins  of  power  from  Mrs.  Bullion,  and 
was  in  a  fair  way  to  control  the  most  fashionable 
charity  of  the  year.  This  to  Mrs.  Van  Loon  was 
wormwood.  More  than  once  she  had  had  occasion  to 
bow  her  neck  and  come  in  to  Mrs.  Boulter's  schemes. 
Mrs.  Boulter,  clever  as  she  was,  had  no  birth,  and 

109 


110  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

little  or  no  money  j  and  Mrs.  Van  Loon  viewed  with 
displeasure  the  encroachment  of  mere  brains  and 
glibness  upon  a  territory  hitherto  almost  exclusively 
her  own.  When  it  was  a  question  of  laying  down 
the  social  law,  Mrs.  Van  Loon  felt  herself  to  be  de 
puted  by  Heaven  to  do  it.  And  if  you  once  let  these 
writing  people  get  ahead  in  society,  in  Heaven's  name, 
where  will  they  stop  ? 

A  call  upon  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  found  that  exhausted 
leader  willing  to  waive  all  rights  of  government  in 
favor  of  her  younger  and  more  active  ally.  Mrs. 
Vernon's  polite  note  to  inform  Mrs.  Van  Shuter,  and 
the  ladies  of  the  board,  of  her  great  regret  that  the 
orders  of  her  physician  made  it  imperative  for  her 
to  withdraw  from  connection  with  the  work,  gave 
Mrs.  Van  Loon  the  immediate  opportunity  she  de 
sired.  Mrs.  Van  Shuter,  who  agreed  to  attend  the 
meetings  if  she  were  released  from  further  effort, 
made  her  last  contribution  to  the  fund  by  ordering 
the  hapless  Miss  Thompson  to  write  an  entirely  new 
set  of  little  notes.  And  clever  Mrs.  Boulter  found 
herself  bidden  into  an  enemy's  camp,  where  judicious 
wire-pulling  put  Mrs.  Van  Loon  in  the  chair,  vice  Mrs. 
Van  Shuter,  resigned,  and  where  Mrs.  Bullion,  now 
mysteriously  appeased,  was  induced  to  reconsider  and 
to  accept  the  office  of  treasurer. 

In  the  hands  of  Mrs.  Van  Loon  the  committee  was 
as  wax.  The  chairwoman  let  the  dark-eyed  lady  sug 
gest  her  balpoudre;  the  sandy-haired  lady  was  allowed 
to  air  her  histrionic  daughter  j  all  other  schemes,  from 
the  Russian  tea  to  the  amateur  nigger  minstrels,  were 
vouchsafed  a  gracious  hearing;  and  then  the  obedi- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  111 

ent  assemblage  was  somehow  made  to  understand 
that  it  was  pledged  to  support  an  Early-Republican 
ball,  to  be  opened  by  a  Centennial  Minuet. 

"  It  is  so  simple/'  said  the  presiding  officer.  "  Every 
one  should  wear  ancestral  clothes  belonging  to  the 
period,  with  miniatures,  and  seals,  and — er — all  that 
kind  of  thing — and  the  hair  powdered,  as  Mrs. 
Creighton  so  happily  suggests.  Those  who  dance  in 
the  opening  minuet  should,  of  course,  represent  fam 
ilies  known  in  political  or  social  life  in  the  days  of 
Washington's  residence  in  New  York  as  President. 
By  hunting  up  all  the  old  books  at  the  Historical  and 
Society  and  Astor  libraries,  many  valuable  hints  may 
be  obtained  as  to  emblems  and  mottos  and  decora 
tions  of  that  date.  And  I  have  an  idea  that  our  best 
people  might  be  induced  to  form  a  loan  collection  of 
the  portraits  of  their  American  ancestors  to  hang 
around  the  walls  of  the  ball-room,  if  the  insurance 
were  properly  looked  after,  and  there  were  detectives 
kept  day  and  night,  of  course.  What  could  be  easier  ? " 

Easy  as  it  was,  an  unaccountable  dejection  settled 
over  certain  portions  of  the  company.  At  once  a  buzz 
of  discussion  ensued;  and  the  wheels  of  progress 
stopped.  The  burning  question  that  arose  in  every 
woman's  mind  as  to  the  award  of  places  in  the  minuet 
of  honor  banished  all  thought  of  the  "Legal  Relief 
of  Oppressed  Wives  " ;  the  object  of  the  meeting  was 
forgotten.  Mrs.  Boulter,  after  letting  fly  two  or  three 
arrows  of  satire  that  pierced  Mrs.  Van  Loon's  armor 
visibly,  offered  her  resignation  to  the  board.  Mrs. 
Gramercy  St.  John,  who  was  deemed  sure  of  a  lead 
ing  role  in  the  affair,  confided  to  her  neighbor  that 


112  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

she  could  not  bring  herself  to  serve,  because  Mrs. 
Fulton  Manhattan  (whose  great-grandfather  had  sold 
figs  while  hers  stood  on  the  balcony  beside  President 
Washington  at  Federal  Hall)  had  been  proposed  as 
her  vis-a-vis.  Mrs.  Fulton  Manhattan,  hearing  this 
whisper,  also  resigned  from  the  board  of  managers. 
Old  Mrs.  Bowling  Green,  whose  spinster  daughter 
Selina  had  been  overlooked  in  the  first  hastily  made 
list  of  dancers,  rose  up,  and  in  a  quavering  voice 
begged  leave  to  offer  a  few  remarks.  She  would  de 
tain  the  ladies  only  long  enough  to  say  that  although 
her  ancestor  was  a  favorite  staff-officer  of  Washing 
ton,  and  the  cups  from  which  his  Excellency  drank 
tea  with  her  grandmama  were  daily  dusted  upon  her 
cupboard-shelves,  she  should  consider  it  quite  too 
ridiculous  to  have  one  of  her  family  appear  in  such 
a  mixed  affair — after  which  she  left  the  room.  Mrs. 
Central  Parker,  who  had  been  absorbed  in  the  mental 
wording  of  a  cablegram  to  Worth  for  a  delicious 
First-Empire  toilet,  sprang  upon  her  feet  at  this,  and, 
resenting  a  fancied  direction  of  Mrs.  Green's  remarks 
to  her,  proffered  her  resignation,  and  retired,  resolv 
ing  to  induce  her  husband  to  cable,  instead,  for  a 
duke's  house  for  the  London  season. 

Amid  this  confusion,  and  under  a  stress  of  feeling 
that  bid  fair  to  depopulate  the  committee,  Mrs.  Cal 
liope  Duncombe  sat  by,  serene  and  unruffled,  her  eyes 
cast  down,  her  meek  hands  folded  in  her  lap.  Some 
thing  in  her  expression  seemed  to  annoy  Mrs.  Van 
Shuter,  who  was  in  the  condition  of  the  camel  that 
resented  the  last  straw. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  as  well  to  tell  that  person, — 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  113 

Mrs.  What  's-er-name, —  "  said  the  Idol,  very  crossly 
and  audibly,  to  Mrs.  Van  Loon,  "  that  it 's  of  no 
earthly  use  for  her  to  come  to  the  meetings  of  our 
committee." 

" Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Loon •  "I  had  thought 
of  that,  myself.  It 's  bad  enough  to  be  in  such  a  tur 
moil,  without  having  anybody  sitting  by  and  looking 
like  a  saint.  Tell  her  when  we  Ve  anything  to  give, 
we  '11  let  her  know.'7 

"  But  I  never  tell  people  things,  myself,"  answered 
the  great  lady,  a-flutter;  "it  is  so  apt  to  bring  on 
palpitation,  to  have  to  think  about  the  words." 

"Then  the  secretary  must  notify  her.  What  with 
the  clatter  and  quarreling,  I  'in  almost  distracted 
now,"  said  the  chairwoman  of  the  board. 

BETTY  HALLIDAY,  again  in  attendance  upon  an 
occasion  she  vowed  was  as  good  as  a  circus  with  three 
rings,  gave  a  full  report  of  the  proceedings  to  Nell  at 
luncheon,  where  Nell's  mother-in-law  had  dropped  in 
on  her  way  for  her  drive.  Betty,  struck  with  the  care 
worn  look  on  Mrs.  Vernon's  face,  thought  she  observed 
her  eye  gleam  with  something  like  triumph  at  the 
account  of  the  snub  to  Mrs.  Duncombe.  But  the 
widow,  observing  merely  that  it  was  really  too  bad 
she  should  have  to  miss  the  Early-Republican  ball,  as 
she  had  more  than  half  decided  to  go  to  the  other 
side,  bestowed  a  kiss  upon  Nell's  cheek,  and  took  an 
imposing  leave. 

ELEANOR,  who  objected  to  the  idea  of  set  after 
noons  at  home,  on  which  her  pretty  house  would  be 

8 


114  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

overrun  by  the  crowd  that  comes  to  congratulate  and 
goes  to  criticize,  had  at  once  established  a  tea-table  at 
five  o'clock,  where  friends  dropping  in  were  tempted 
to  linger  with  the  lengthening  days. 

She  was  not  a  woman  like  the  heroines  of  French 
novels,  to  make  intimate  corners  into  which  it  is 
death  for  more  than  one  man  to  venture  at  a  time. 
There  was  in  her  drawing-room  an  absence  of  divans, 
beneath  tent-shaped  draperies  pitched  under  palm- 
trees  where  camels  and  caravans  alone  are  wanting. 
Visitors,  presenting  themselves  in  visiting-hours,  had 
no  opportunity  to  discern  their  hostess  in  the  rose 
ate  glow  of  lamps  veiled  by  wonderful  frilled  shades, 
lolling  on  piles  of  cushions  in  a  Delsartian  pose, 
tete-a-tete  with  some  youngster  who  assumes  to  be 
disagreeably  surprised  at  an  interruption.  Her  own 
old  friends, —  men  and  girls, —  and  Jerry's  coterie  of 
gilded  youths,  who  had  been  a  little  everywhere, 
knew  a  little  of  everything,  dealt  with  all  topics 
lightly,  often  amusingly,  pronounced  Nell's  "five 
o'clock"  a  find. 

" l  What  makes  the  lambs  love  Mary  so  ? ' "  said 
Dick  Henderson,  on  one  of  these  afternoons.  "  Do 
you  give  it  up,  Mrs.  Jerry?  Well,  its  hostess  apart, 
yours  is  a  restful  house.  The  amount  of  manual 
labor  a  man  has,  nowadays,  in  calling  upon  most 
women !  The  logs  that  won't  burn,  the  chimneys 
that  smoke,  the  candle-shades  that  catch  fire,  the 
spirit-lamps  and  dogs  that  have  to  be  put  out — " 

"  Don't,  please,"  said  Trix,  coming  in,  in  her  walk 
ing-dress,  just  then.  "  You  make  me  ashamed  of  my 
dear  Friar  Tuck,  who,  when  he  goes  with  me  visiting, 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  115 

will  neither  stay  outside  nor  stay  in.  Nell,  if  I  'm 
later  than  usual,  put  it  down  to  Tuck,  for  he  had  to 
be  exercised.  Ever  since  the  awful  day  he — well,  not 
exactly  growled,  but — rumbled  at  Jerr/s  Aunt  Try- 
phena,  who  despises  dogs,  I  Ve  never  dared  bring  him 
here,  without  coming  in  first  to  reconnoiter.  He  7s 
walking  around  the  block,  waiting  for  me,  now,  the 
dear." 

''What,  alone?"  said  Eleanor. 

"No;  there's  somebody  else,"  the  girl  answered, 
blushing  and  vanishing  amid  a  general  laugh,  to  re 
appear,  accompanied  not  only  by  a  noble  St.  Bernard 
dog,  who  at  once  laid  his  "  Shaksperean  dewlaps  "  on 
Mrs.  Gerald's  knees,  and  stood  still  to  be  caressed, 
but  a  slim,  broad-shouldered  young  man  wearing  an 
altogether  bright  and  wholesome  countenance,  who 
was  introduced  to  her  sister  as  Mr.  Vyvan. 


IX 


HIS  little  group  brought  with  it  into 
Eleanor's  drawing-room  a  sense  of 
open-air  freshness  and  young  vital 
ity.  The  blitheness  in  Vy van's  face 
set  Eleanor  to  thinking ;  and,  plac 
ing  him  in  a  chair  beside  her,  she 
studied  him  narrowly,  a  scrutiny  his  frank  manhood 
enabled  the  youth  to  bear  becomingly.  Trix,  mean 
while,  came  in  for  her  share  of  rallying  attention. 

"  It 's  love  me,  love  my  dog,  with  you,  is  n't  it,  Miss 
Beatrix?"  said  De  Witt,  in  a  low  tone,  as  he  handed 
her  the  cream. 

"Not  always,"  the  girl  answered,  curling  her  lip; 
"you  are  at  perfect  liberty  to  love  my  dog,  Mr. 
de  Witt." 

"  Hard  hit,  Freddy,"  said  Henderson.  "  Come  here, 
Friar  Tuck,  you  are  a  credit  to  your  bringing  up. 
Short 's  your  friend,  not  Codlin.  Would  it  insult  you 
to  be  offered  one  of  Mrs.  Jerry's  tea-cakes  ? " 

But  the  Friar,  proof  against  blandishments,  had 
now  transferred  his  huge  muzzle  from  Nell's  knee  to 
Vy van's,  where  he  remained,  consulting  the  young 
man's  face  with  the  dumb  lovingness  a  big  dog  can 
make  so  eloquent. 

116 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  117 

"  Did  n't  he  take  a  prize  at  the  last  bench-show  ? " 
went  on  Henderson  with  persistent  civility  to  Trix. 

"No-o,"  said  Tuck's  mistress,  shaking  her  head  as 
she  surveyed  her  treasure  mournfully.  "  I  can't  think 
why,  but  I  7m  afraid  there  was  something  underhand, 
because  one  of  the  judges  told  me  Tuck  was  too  per 
fectly  lovely  to  live." 

"  I  admire  that  fellow's  diplomacy,"  put  in  De  Witt. 
"Did  he  tell  you  also  that  you  should  have  a  dog- 
show  exclusively  for  Friar  Tuck,  where  all  the  others 
would  be  cats,  and  he  'd  be  sure  to  win  a  prize — 

Trix  was  saved  the  trouble  of  a  repartee  by  Friar 
Tuck  himself,  who,  turning  at  this  moment  his  delib 
erate  gaze  on  the  last  speaker,  vented  his  feelings  by 
a  long  and  heartfelt  yawn. 

"  You  have  been  very  lucky  to  win  the  Friar's  con 
fidence,"  Eleanor  said  to  young  Vyvan.  "He  is,  in 
general,  very  repellant  of  advances  by  strangers." 

"  Oh,  I  was  brought  up  with  dogs  for  playfellows. 
In  the  South,  where  our  doors  are  always  open,  they 
walk  through  our  homes  like  members  of  the  family. 
I  pity  these  poor  creatures  cribbed  up  in  town. 
I  suppose  it  's  the  fellow-feeling  that  makes  me 
kind." 

"  Then  you  miss  your  Southern  life  ?  But  of  course 
you  do.  My  sister  Trix  and  I,  and  our  brother  Jack, 
have  been  going  always  in  summer  to  a  rather  hot, 
dull  little  place  my  mother  has  on  the  Hudson  River, 
and  we  preferred  that  to  anything  New  York  could 
furnish.  Those  splendid  big  Maryland  estates  of 
yours  must  give  you  even  more  of  a  feeling  of  room 
to  breathe  and  grow  in." 
8* 


118  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  Big  enough  they  are/'  said  Brock,  laughing ;  "  but 
the  splendor  is  all  in  space  and  forests." 

"  Tell  me  about  your  home." 

"I  sha'n't  bore  you?  It's  an  old  place  called 
Mount  St.  Dunstan,  that  has  been  built  on  a  long 
time,  and  has  always  belonged  to  my  mother's  family. 
After  my  father  was  killed  in  the  last  year  of  the  war, 
I  was  born,  and  she  went  back  there  to  live  with  my 
grandfather,  who  is  now  a  very  old  man,  devoted  to 
flowers  and  dogs.  Every  fine  day  you  may  see  him 
working  in  his  garden  or  greenhouses,  with  a  golden 
collie  at  his  heels.  My  mother  keeps  the  house,  with 
a  poor  lot  of  servants, — the  best  they  can  get  down 
there  now, —  and  everything  indoors  is  rather  worn 
and  shabby,  I  suppose ;  but  I  know  I  would  n't  have 
it  changed — " 

His  ingenuous  face,  one  of  those  in  which  expres 
sion  is  "  on  tiptoe  for  a  flight,"  softened,  then  clouded 
as  he  stopped. 

"  You  are  the  only  son  ? "  Eleanor  asked  softly. 

"  The  only  child,  worse  luck.  It  is  hard  for  her  to 
do  without  me,  though  of  course  there  are  always 
cousins  stopping  in  the  house,  and  work  enough  in 
the  affairs  of  the  plantation.  And  she  is  getting  used 
to  it,  now,  what  with  the  four  years  at  the  university 
and  those  in  New  York." 

"  We  must  try  to  make  you  feel  at  home  with  us," 
she  said,  with  a  smile  that  reminded  him  of  Trix. 

"Oh,  I  am  happy.  I  like  the  vista  that  seems  to 
have  no  end  that  opens  before  a  young  man  of  pur 
pose  here.  When  I  first  came,  I  had  such  a  different 
notion  of  standards  and  values — coming  out  of  that 
dreamy  old-world  atmosphere  of  sentimental  aris- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  119 

tocracy  into  this  broad  daylight  of  commercial  enter 
prise.  Now  I  have  found  my  place,  I  am  encouraged 
about  the  future  in  a  way  I  could  not  have  been,  had 
I  remained  at  home.  But,  Mrs.  Vernon,  you  must 
think  me  abominably  vain.'7 

"Some  day  I  must  hear  more.  You  must  come 
and  dine  with  us,"  she  began,  when  her  attention  was 
claimed  elsewhere. 

"  Come,  Mrs.  Jerry,  decide  for  us/7  said  Henderson. 
"Is  it  the  men's  fault  or  the  girls',  that  we  average 
fellows  in  society  have  to  wait  till  our  hair  gets  thin 
before  we  take  wives  ? " 

"Like  old  Beau  Meredith/-'  added  De  Witt;  "live 
to  be  the  happiness  of  successive  generations  of  debu 
tantes,  and  return  to  second  childhood  in  the  process. 
But  it 's  poor  economy  to  wait  till  your  hair  grows 
thin  before  you  marry.  One  of  the  prettiest  women 
I  know  told  me  she  never  sees  the  bald  spot  on  her 
husband's  head  that  it  does  n't  make  her  want  to 
gape.  Of  course  it 's  the  women's  fault.  They  won't 
look  at  us  unless  wre  can  give  them  —  well,  say, — 
looking  about  him  approvingly, — "the  likes  of  this." 

"  That 's  it/'  said  Henderson,  ruefully.  "  Fancy  ask 
ing  any  girl  of  our  set  to  live  with  you  and  be  your 
love  in  a  flat  with  five  speaking-trumpets  surmount 
ing  five  visiting-cards  in  the  vestibule,  and  a  smell  of 
codfish  in  the  halls.  I  Ve  often  thought  I  might 
manage  to  feed  my  wife,  if  she  would  make  her  trous 
seau  last ;  but  how  I  could  pay  three  dollars  an  even 
ing  for  cabs  to  convey  her  to  other  people's  dinners, 
I  don't  see.  On  the  whole,  I  think  I  had  rather  be 
taken  in  and  done  for  by  my  father-in-law." 

"Widows,  now/'  said  De^Witt,  "offer  a  delightful 


120  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

solution  of  the  difficulty,  if  they  are  rich  and  young ; 
but  the  stock  is  limited." 

"  For  shame  !  "  said  Eleanor.  "  I  refuse  to  arbitrate. 
Thank  goodness,  there  are  love-matches,  even  in  '  our 
set.' " 

"  Denzil's,  for  instance,"  said  Henderson.  "  When 
he  left  college,  an  honor-man,  and  the  world  before 
him  where  to  choose, —  the  best-looking,  the  cleverest 
fellow  of  his  day,  an  athlete,  and  a  hero, — he  went 
in  for  architecture,  and  might  have  been  anything. 
Well,  two  years  later,  he  took  out  to  dinner  a  girl 
with  a  Burne-Jones  profile  and  without  a  cent,  raved 
the  next  day  to  us  about  her  brow  that  should  have 
worn  a  perpetual  fillet,  and  in  three  months — married 
her.  Look  at  them  now.  They  have  been  married 
eight  years.  She  is  a  dowdy  goddess,  a  millstone 
around  Denzil's  neck.  He  has  lost  pluck  and  temper, 
has  become  a  cynic,  pitches  into  all  things  American, 
is  begrudging  of  other  men's  good  things,  and  con 
tinually  hampered  by  the  necessity  of  paying  house 
hold  bills.  Now  tell  me,  whose  happiness  does  Denzil 
make?  Who  makes  his?  What  has  he  secured  by 
marrying  for  love  ? " 

"  That  Mrs.  Denzil !  "  commented  Trix,  scornfully. 
"  She  is  the  kind  of  limp  woman  who  sits  and  com 
plains  of  her  husband,  and  raves  about  Browning  and 
Tolstoi,  while  her  children  are  running  in  the  streets. 
It  is  her  fault,  if  anybody's ;  and  I  think  you  are  all 
horrid  and  cold-blooded  in  the  way  you  talk." 

"  Have  you  ever  estimated  the  price  of  the  butcher's 
meat  consumed  by  Nip  and  Tuck,  Miss  Beatrix?"  said 
her  tormentor,  Fred  de  Witt.  "And  do  you  think 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  121 

you  'd  be  willing  to  put  down  your  dogs,  as  some 
women  put  down  their  carriages,  for  your  husband's 
sake?" 

"  There  is  something  else  I  should  like  to  put  down 
first/7  said  Trix,  crushingly. 

To  this  chatter  Brock  Vyvan  listened  with  mingled 
feelings.  He  knew  these  men  to  belong  to  a  class  of 
comparative  leisure,  to  be  well-dressed,  able  to  indulge 
themselves  in  many  things  which  he  could  but  dream 
of  one  day  possessing.  He  saw  them  drifting  out  of 
youth  without  a  thought  of  assuming  the  matrimonial 
yoke,  and  he  could  not  but  admit  a  certain  reason  in 
their  arguments  against  so  doing.  Even  with  the 
ring  of  Trix's  honest  voice  in  protest  in  his  ear,  he 
looked  around  him,  and  then  in  fancy  back  to  the 
faded  rooms  of  the  Mount  St.  Dunstan  homestead 
wThich  was  to  be  his  inheritance.  In  contrast  with 
this  afflueiit  prosperity  deemed  indispensable  to  the 
higher  civilization  of  to-day,  he  set  the  barren  acres, 
the  cramped  fortunes,  the  lack  of  ready  money  of  his 
home-people.  He  thought  of  how  many  years  of  toil 
must  pass  to  bring  him  to  the  independence  needed 
to  rid  the  old  place  of  debt,  to  furnish  comforts  to 
his  mother's  declining  years;  and  steeled  his  heart 
against  the  siren  whisperings  that  had,  of  late,  begun 
to  echo  there  with  a  music  that  never  ceased. 

Eleanor,  refusing  to  u  give  in  her  testimony,"  felt 
that  on  her  side  much  might  be  said.  "  It  is  a  craven 
sort  of  thing,"  she  thought,  "  to  sit  here  and  let  these 
young  men  think  we  are  all  material  worldlings  be 
cause  we  've  been  born  in  a  certain  social  class.  But 
I  can't  speak  •  the  truth  is,  I  'm  afraid  to  say  too 


122  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

much.  And  they  might  not  believe  me  if  I  told  the 
very  truth — that  if  Jerry  had  brought  me  nothing 
but  himself  I  'd  have  been  as  content.  And  if  this  is 
foolish,  I  don't  want  to  be  wise." 

The  talk  was  here  interrupted  by  Hughes,  the  ex- 
valet,  who  for  an  increase  of  stipend  had  consented 
to  take  upon  his  accomplished  hands  the  duty  of  but 
ler  in  the  new  establishment.  He  was  preceding  two 
gentlemen,  about  whom  Trix,  recognizing  them,  ut 
tered  her  significant  word,  "  Bother !  "  as  Hughes  an 
nounced  Mr.  Van  Loon  and  Mr.  Leeds. 

The  blood  came  into  Eleanor's  cheeks.  The  im 
mense  impertinence  of  the  individual  last  named,  in 
intruding  himself  under  the  wing  of  an  old  acquaint 
ance  into  her  house,  filled  her  with  indignation  that 
found  no  vent.  It  is  in  comedies  of  the  stage,  not  of 
real  life,  that  the  heroine  has  the  exact  words  ready 
with  which  to  repel  audacity.  And  a  woman  in  her 
own  house  rarely  allows  herself  the  pleasure  of  a 
downright  invitation  to  go  out  of  it  to  any  one  short 
of  an  intending  burglar.  Even  a  book-agent's  way 
to  the  front  door  is  soothed  by  apologetic  courtesy. 

"  Saw  Vernon  at  the  club,"  said  Timothy,  address 
ing  his  hostess,  but  his  vagrant  eye  captured  anew  by 
the  spring-like  charms  of  Trix,  who  had  given  him  a 
slight  and  frosty  nod.  "  Said  you  'd  be  here  at  tea- 
time.  Got  in  from  Florida  on  my  boat,  this  morning. 
Havin'  a  new  yacht  built,  and,  by  Jove,  I  'd  thought 
o'  namin'  it  the  Beatrix;  but  your  sister  's  so  uncom 
mon  huffy,  nowadays — won't  look  at  a  man,  like  the 
other  girls  you  see  around.  Have  you  heard  my 
latest  good  thing  anywhere?  No?  Really!  New 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  123 

beauty  at  the  Ponce  de  Leon  since  you  left,  named 
Milliken,  from  the  West  somewhere,  stands  six  foot 
in  her  stockings,  if  an  inch.  Can't  think  what 7s  hap 
pened  to  the  girls  now,  to  make  'em  all  so  tall.  Fel 
lows  wanted  me  to  lead  a  cotillion  with  the  Milliken ; 
but  I  just  looked  at  her,  and  gave  it  up.  l  Could  n't 
do  it  unless  I  danced  on  stilts/  I  said,  '  and  I  never 
learned  that  way.'  By  Jove,  I  Ve  heard  of  nothin' 
else  since,  everywhere  I  've  been.  People  are  buzzin' 
it  all  over  the  country,  I  believe.  l  Could  n't  do  it 
unless  I  danced  on  stilts'  was  what  I  saidj  'and  I 
never  learned  that  way.7  I  believe  somebody  has 
sent  the  thing  to  i  Puck ' ;  but  you  may  say  you  had 
it  right  from  me." 

Trix  laughed.  Encouraged  by  what  he  took  to  be 
approval,  Mr.  Van  Loon  forsook  Eleanor,  and  con 
veyed  himself  and  hat  and  stick  over  to  a  piano- 
bench  near  where  the  girl  was  seated,  his  place  by 
Mrs.  Gerald  being  at  once  assumed  by  Mr.  Carteret 
Leeds. 

"  Van  Loon  told  you  we  'd-er-met  Vernon  at  the 
club,'7  said  that  unabashed  gentleman.  "  From  what 
he  said,  I-er-thought  you  'd  be  glad  of  the  last  news 
from  our  friends  in  Florida.  Your  husband  told  us 
he  'd  be  at  home,  himself,  this  afternoon ;  but  I  sup 
pose  he  changed  his  mind,  as  I  saw  him  walkin' 
with-er-a  fair  lady  down  the  avenue  a  half-hour 
since." 

"  Mr.  Vernon  is  in  the  habit  of  going  to  his  mother 
at  this  time,"  said  Eleanor,  angry  with  herself  for  an 
swering  at  all. 

"  Oh,  no ;  not  Mrs.  Vernon,"  he  said,  with  an  in- 


124  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

tonation  maliciously  jocose — "  not  Mrs.  Vernon,  cer 
tainly.  I  say,  it  would  be  a  good  joke  on  Jerry  to  let 
the  cat  out  now." 

"  You  have  taken  many  liberties,"  Eleanor  said  very 
low,  and  with  awful  distinctness,  "  but  you  have  never 
gone  so  far  before  as  to  presume  to  discuss  my  hus 
band's  affairs  with  me.  May  I  ask  that  you  will  keep 
this  fact  in  mind  ? " 

"  Oh,  but  I  say,  you  know,"  he  urged,  still  jocular, 
"most  women  would  be  glad  of  a  chance  to  bring  a 
man  to  book — when  it  's  about  an  old  flame,  espe 
cially.  Come,  now,  I  '11  lay  ten  to  one  you  're  dyiii' 
to  get  down  off  your  high  horse  and  own  up  you  're 
curious.  But  I  won't  peach.  Only  you  'd  better  ask 
Jerry  why  lie  advised  Van  Loon  to  come  to  see  you  noiv." 

They  were  sitting  a  little  apart,  behind  the  table  in 
the  back-room,  and,  with  an  exclamation  of  disgust, 
Eleanor  arose  hurriedly,  intending  to  join  the  rest 
and  to  cut  short  the  hateful  conference.  This  move 
ment  Friar  Tuck,  who  had  been  peacefully  dozing  at 
her  feet,  misinterpreted  to  mean  a  declaration  of  war 
upon  her  enemy,  and,  starting  up  with  a  growl  of 
deep-seated  determination,  his  teeth  gleaming,  his 
body  tense, — a  terrible  object  in  his  wrath, — he 
launched  his  great  bulk  forward  in  a  spring  at  the 
offender.  Quick  as  he  was,  Brock  Vyvan,  who,  the 
other  men  having  taken  leave,  had  been  rather  tamely 
turning  over  a  book  of  photographs  of  cathedrals, 
while  Trix  was  appropriated  by  Van  Loon,  was 
quicker.  Before  Tuck  could  reach  his  victim,  a  firm 
hand  was  on  his  collar,  and  Trix,  flying  to  the  rescue, 
helped  to  reduce  the  huge  creature  to  good  behavior. 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  125 

Dead- white,  and  with  chattering  teeth,  Mr.  Carteret 
Leeds  for  once  parted  with  his  offensive  ease,  and 
went  off  babbling  his  adiens  in  an  abject  sort  of  way. 

"  I  never  saw  Tuck  do  such  a  thing  before,"  said 
Trix,  as  Van  Loon  prepared  to  follow  his  friend. 
"  He  's  as  mild  as  milk  in  general.  Lucky  it  was  that 
horrid  Mr.  Leeds." 

"Tuck  never  before  had  such  provocation,"  said 
Eleanor  in  an  undertone  to  her  sister,  her  heart  beat 
ing  fiercely  at  the  remembered  insolence. 

"  You  are  goiii'  to  Mrs.  Bullion's  dinner,  ain't  you  ?  " 
asked  lingering  Timothy,  whose  chains  this  meeting 
had  newly  welded.  "  I  know  you  are,  for  she  told 
me  so,  before  she  could  get  me  to  say  I  'd  come ;  and 
you  '11  give  me  the  cotillion,  won't  you,  at  the  next 
Assembly  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  if  I  'm  engaged  j  I  '11  see,"  said  Trix, 
darting  a  look  at  Vyvan,  who  remained  inanimate. 
Some  fine  lady  of  his  acquaintance  had  sent  him  a 
card  for  the  festivity  in  question,  and,  an  hour  before, 
he  had  talked  eagerly  with  the  girl  about  going 
thither  for  the  pleasure  of  dancing  with  her.  But 
the  glimpse  just  afforded  him  into  the  workings  of 
fashionable  life  had  apparently  chilled  his  enthusiasm 
for  its  functions. 

"  I  should  keep  both  you  and  Mr.  Vyvan  if  we  were 
dining  at  home,"  said  Eleanor,  when  Trix  also  rose 
to  go. 

"  Mama  is  alone  to-night,  and  I  could  n't  stop," 
Trix  answered ;  "  but  Mr.  Vyvan  need  not  take  the 
long  walk  home  with  Tuck  and  me." 

Again  she  ventured  a  shy  side-glance.     This  time 


126  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

a  dark  red  tinge  came  upon  his  cheeks  and  brow. 
He  made  no  answer,,  but  when  they  were  outside  kept 
with  her  in  the  street. 

"I  said  you  need  not  trouble  to  walk  back  with 
me/7  she  repeated,  a  little  more  distinctly. 

"  I  heard  you,  of  course,  and  I  have  no  wish  to  in 
trude  my  company ;  but  if  you  think  I  am  going  to 
lose  you  from  my  sight  till  you  are  within  your  own 
front  door,  you  are  mistaken.  That  is  n't  the  way  we 
treat  ladies  in  our  part  of  the  world." 

"  If  you  don't,  you  all  ~but  engage  them  to  dance  the 
cotillion  with  you,  and  then  leave  them  in  the  lurch, 
to  be  snapped  up  by  any  goose." 

"  Do  you  think  he  is  a  goose  ? "  he  cried,  with  a  joy 
ous  tremor  in  his  voice.  "  Then  I  will  dance  with  or 
without  you  for  a  week." 

"  This  is  '  tew  ridic'lous,' "  Trix  said,  trying  to  turn 
off  her  consciousness  of  pleasure  with  a  jest.  "  That 's 
what  the  backwoodsman  remarked  when  he  came 
home  after  an  Indian  raid,  and  found  his  home 
burnt,  and  his  wife  and  children  lying  scalped  upon 
the  ground." 

"  Oh,  you  may  laugh  at  me,"  he  said,  now  close  be 
side  her,  the  big  dog  " padding"  on  the  chain  ahead, 
"but  I  Ve  been  told — I  know  what 's  expected.  Half 
the  girls  I  meet  out  ask  me  if  I  think  you  '11  marry 
Mr.  Timothy  Van  Loon.  It 's  part  of  the  stock  con 
versation  of  polite  society." 

"Let  us  talk  about  foot-ball,"  said  Trix,  mischiev 
ously. 

ELEANOR,  in  the  hands  of  her  maid,  making  ready 
for  a  dinner,  one  of  the  series  in  honor  of  their  nup- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF    TUNE  127 

tials  to  which  the  young  couple  had  not  ceased  to  be 
bidden,  was  vexed  at  her  own  longing  to  hear  Jerry's 
foot  upon  the  stairs.  He  was  unusually  late,  and  now 
there  would  be  no  opportunity  till  they  should  be  in 
the  carriage  to  pour  forth  her  fall  soul  about  the 
attempted  poison  of  Mr.  Carteret  Leeds'  discourse. 
She  had  already  made  up  her  mind  that  malice  was 
at  the  bottom  of  it,  and  she  longed,  in  Jerry's  arms, 
to  rid  herself  of  the  recollection  of  a  momentary  pang 
of  doubt  of  him.  But  there  was  ever  a  lurking  won 
der  as  to  who  could  be  the  woman  the  world  of  gossip 
had  a  right  to  call  Jerry's  "  old  flame."  Why  had  she 
heard  of  this  person,  now,  for  the  first  time?  Then 
Eleanor  laughed  at  herself  for  supposing  her  beauti 
ful  Jerry  could  have  gone  so  far  through  his  young 
manhood  without  some  aspersion  of  the  sort.  In 
another  wife,  she  would  have  been  first  to  judge  such 
weakness  beneath  contempt. 

All  the  same,  when  she  saw  the  gown  Elsa  had  laid 
out  for  her, —  a  "creation"  in  reds  and  watermelon 
pinks  that  Gerald  had  decried, — with  some  petulance 
she  ordered  it  away.  In  its  place  she  put  on  a  robe 
of  black  gauze,  that  should  bring  out  the  dazzling 
freshness  of  her  skin,  and  serve  as  a  background  for 
the  luster  of  Jerry's  diamonds  scattered  upon  her 
bodice  and  in  her  hair.  Until  now  the  girl  had 
decked  herself,  as  flowers  unfold  their  petals  to  the 
sun,  in  fragrant  unconsciousness  of  the  law  that  bids 
them  open.  Tasting  the  fruit  of  knowledge,  she  had 
already  learned  what  men  of  Gerald's  stamp  make 
of  vital  importance  in  woman's  eyes,  and  then  deride 
them  for  considering.  Gazing  at  her  image  in  the 
mirror,  and  admitting  with  a  blush  the  success  of  her 


128  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

innocent  design,  the  young  wife's  eye  fell  on  the  face 
of  a  tiny  clock  standing  among  the  litter  of  silver  and 
ivory  upon  her  toilet. 

"  How  late  it  is  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  You  are  quite 
sure,  Elsa,  Mr.  Vernon  has  not  come  into  his  room  ? " 

The  discreet  Elsa,  tripping  away,  returned  without 
bearing  comfort;  and  just  as  Eleanor  began  to  feel 
anxiety  succeeding  blankness,  Jerry's  key  was  heard 
in  the  door  below. 

"All  right;  I  >m  late,  but  I  '11  make  all  the  haste  I 
can/'  he  said,  looking  in  on  her  for  a  moment.  "  Why, 
what  a  swell  you  are,  with  your  whole  jewel-box 
emptied  over  your  head  and  sticking  where  it  fell." 

"Is  there  too  much  of  it — are  n't  you  pleased  with 
me  ? "  she  said,  rather  cut  by  his  comment. 

She  had  risen,  and  stood  before  him  in  her  bloom 
ing  youth,  amid  the  sparkle  of  her  gems,  offering  her 
self  to  his  criticism  with  a  movement  half  coquettish, 
all  womanly.  Jerry  leaned  over,  and  regardless  of 
Elsa's  completed  masterpiece,  clasped  her  in  his  arms, 
kissing  her  lips  and  cheeks. 

"Oh,  please  go,"  she  said;  "you  will  never  have 
time  to  change.  The  carriage  is  there  now ;  it  is  dis 
graceful  to  be  so  late." 

But  when,  shrouded  by  her  maid  in  a  long  wrap 
whose  high  collar  of  fur  caressed  the  coils  of  her  nut- 
brown  hair,  and  armed  with  her  scepter  of  curling 
ostrich  plumes,  she  sat  beside  Jerry  in  the  brougham, 
and  they  were  driven,  at  speed,  through  the  lighted 
streets,  Nell  nestled  toward  him  lovingly. 

"How  unnecessarily  fast  Beacon  drives,  Jerry. 
I  ?m  sure  we  have  time  enough.  If  Mrs.  Van  Loon 


"ARE    NT    YOU    PLEASED    WITH    ME? 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  131 

is  to  be  there,  we  are  sure  to  have  to  wait  the  usual 
half-hour  for  her.  I  have  so  much  to  tell  you. 
I  don't  see  why  women  so  often  say  they  dread  the 
driving  out  to  dinner,  because  their  husbands  are  al 
ways  cross  5  you  are  always  sweet  to  me  then,  Jerry, 
and  we  are  so  deliciously  alone." 

"  I  might  as  well  attempt  to  get  my  arm  around  a 
Polar  bear,  as  you  in  that  fluffy  overcoat,"  he  said 
good-humoredly.  "  But  I  always  like  to  do  what 's 
expected  of  me — so  here  goes.  Now  begin,  and  put 
in  as  much  talk  as  a  woman  can  crowd  into  three 
quarters  of  a  mile,  and  I  '11  promise  not  to  inter 
rupt." 

Eleanor's  first  impulse  had  been  to  pour  into  her 
husband's  ear  the  annoyance  contributed  to  her  day's 
experience  by  Mr.  Carteret  Leeds.  But  she  could  not 
bring  herself  to  mar  the  happiness  of  this  brief  time 
with  him  snatched  from  the  outer  world.  She  talked 
on  in  her  rapid  girlish  way  about  the  incidents  of  the 
day,  the  contents  of  her  letters,  the  callers  at  her  tea- 
table. 

"Henderson  and  De  Witt  hoped  you  would  be  up 
before  they  left.  They  were  as  amusing  as  ever,  and 
then  Trix  came  with  Tuck  and  young  Vyvan  —  oh, 
Jerry,  that 's  a  delightful  boy.  I  wish,  I  wish  Trix 
and  he  could — but  there  7s  no  use  thinking  of  it,  I 
suppose." 

"  If  Trix  knows  what  is  good  for  her,  she  will  whis 
tle  back  Van  Loon,"  said  Jerry. 

"Jerry!  You  are  not  in  earnest.  My  buoyant, 
sparkling  Trix  tied  to  that  man  —  oh,  impossible!" 

"Your  mother  don't  think  it  impossible,  and  the 


132  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

rest  of  the  world  will  call  Trix  a  downright  fool  if 
she  gets  another  chance  at  him  and  lets  him  go." 

"Mama — poor  mama — you  know  she  thinks  only 
of  what  is  best  for  us/'  began  Eleanor,  and  stopped 
in  embarrassment. 

"  When  a  woman  's  got  a  family  with  as  little 
money  to  support  them  as  your  mother  has,  she  's 
obliged  to  take  views  ahead.  People  who  have  lived 
to  her  time  of  life  see  that,  if  a  fellow  's  decent,  mar 
riages  come  out  about  the  same  in  the  long  run. 
There  's  nothing,  as  men  look  at  it,  against  Timothy ; 
and  if  Trix  don't  snap  him  up,  another  woman  will." 

"  Jerry,  I  can't  believe  you  would  hold  such  senti 
ments,"  Eleanor  said,  drawing  away  from  him  a  little. 

"Because  we  are  spoons  on  each  other,  it  don't 
follow  that  every  one  else  need  be,"  he  said,  with  a 
careless  laugh.  "  But  here  's  news  for  you,  Nell :  my 
mother,  who  kept  me  so  late  talking  about  her  plans, 
is  to  sail  in  the  Teutonic  on  Wednesday  next.  I  got 
a  deck  stateroom  for  her  and  her  maid,  and  cabled 
Mrs.  Vane-Benson  to  establish  her  at  Claridge's.  She 
and  the  doctor  have  patched  up  between  them  that 
she  can't  stand  the  climate  of  New  York  in  spring. 
The  truth  is,  Nell,  she  's  got  the  constitution  of  a 
horse,  and  I  suspect  there  's  some  tiff  under  it.  I  be 
lieve  she  sent  for  her  physician  like  a  woman  I  heard 
of,  lately,  who  said,  l  Doctor,  I  want  to  go  abroad. 
Tell  me  what  's  the  matter  with  me.'" 

"Then  you  were  with  your  mother,  after  all?" 
Eleanor  said,  forgetting  in  her  satisfaction  to  make 
filial  comment  on  Mrs.  Vernon's  plans. 

"With  her.     What  do  you  mean?"  he  said,  with- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT    OF    TUNE  133 

drawing  his  arm.     "  Did  n't  I  tell  you  I  've  been  run 
ning  about  all  day,  settling  her  affairs  ? " 

The  brougham  drew  up  before  an  awning,  and  they 
walked  along  a  wide  crimson  carpet  up  the  steps  and 
into  the  anteroom,  where  the  maids  took  Eleanor's 
wraps,  she  being  conscious  of  increased  enjoyment  of 
the  hour.  Late  as  she  and  Jerry  were,  the  company 
of  eighteen  or  twenty  people  waiting  in  the  drawing- 
room  were  to  be  yet  called  upon  to  curb  their  pangs 
of  hunger  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Van  Loon. 

"It  is  abominable,  that  woman,"  a  man  said,  who 
was  talking  with  Eleanor  during  this  trying  interval. 
"  She  's  absolutely  no  consideration  for  people's  diges 
tions.  This  is  the  fifth  dinner  this  season  where  she's 
kept  me  waiting  for  my  food.  I  'm  faint  now,  and  if 
I  did  n't  know  what  this  chef  can  do,  1 7d  go  ask  the 
butler  for  a  sandwich,  and  accept  the  consequence. 
Here  they  are  now,  for  a  wonder — but,"  his  jaw  dropped 
as  he  looked  around  him,  "  by  Jove,  I  'm  an  odd  num 
ber,  and  there  's  another  yet  to  come  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  a  glimpse  of  somebody  hastening  in  at 
the  door  in  white  and  pearls  caught  Eleanor's  eye,  as 
"Mrs.  de  Lancey"  was  announced.  Then  the  host 
assuming  possession  of  the  bride  to  lead  a  glittering 
line  of  couples  out  to  the  dining-room,  Nell  was  seated 
and  unbuttoning  her  gloves  before  discovering  that  at 
the  other  end  of  a  table  set  with  orchids  in  silver  vases, 
on  the  right  hand  of  Jerry,  who  had  taken  his  hostess 
out,  Hildegarde  was  placed. 

"  There  is  a  beauty  worth  waiting  for,"  said  their 
host  to  Mrs.  Van  Loon  and  Eleanor,  directing  their 
attention  to  the  last-comer. 
9* 


134  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  I  don't  know/'  said  Mrs.  Van  Loon,  who  resented 
encroachment  upon  her  privilege.  "  The  best  thing 
about  her  is  that  one  don't  have  to  ask  Smithson,  now 
they  are  divorced.  And  if  I  were  you/'  she  added  to 
Eleanor,  while  stabbing  at  an  oyster  with  her  fork  as 
comfortably  as  if  it  were  the  reputation  of  a  friend, 
"  I  'd  haul  my  husband  over  the  coals  for  her  delay. 
Half -past  six  it  was,  by  the  carriage-clock,  as  I  drove 
by  the  Plantagenet,  where  she  lives,  and  saw  Mr. 
Vernon  going  in  with  her !  Did  I  tell  you  I  've  got 
you  down  for  my  Centennial  Minuet  ?  It  is  going  on 
finely,  in  spite  of  the  women's  fights." 


X 


N  the  weeks  that  followed  her  first 
perception  of  Gerald's  intention  to 
falsify  his  actions  to  her,  Eleanor 
tried  to  persuade  herself  that  the 
fault  was  on  her  side  in  demand 
ing  that  he  should  sacrifice  for  her 
those  pleasures  of  outside  companionship  she  was 
so  eager  to  give  up  for  him.  With  the  rest  of  the 
unsought  knowledge  the  young  woman  was  daily 
absorbing,  came  a  relentless  conviction  of  the  inher 
ent  difference  in  their  natures  that  made  it  impossible 
for  him  to  be  happy  without  perpetual  movement, 
variety,  change  of  occupation.  If  he  had  been  thrown 
upon  his  own  exertions  for  their  livelihood,  he  would 
have  been  better  balanced  in  this  community,  where 
work  is  the  rule,  and  an  idler  is  by  public  opinion 
forced  to  herd  with  a  little  band  of  his  kind,  more  or 
less  held  in  reproach  for  the  gifts  of  fortune.  Jerry 
would  have  made  a  capital  man  of  business.  His 
natural  industry,  daring  spirit,  gaiety,  quickness  of 
intuition,  surface  good  temper,  eminently  fitted  him 
to  deal  with  American  leaders  of  affairs.  For  politics 
he  had  little  taste,  but  the  whip-and-spur  atmosphere 

135 


136  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

of  modern  commerce  or  finance  would  have  suited 
him  thoroughly.  Soon  after  leaving  the  university, 
Jerry  had  showed  symptoms  of  weariness  of  the  vacu 
ity  of  his  life  in  New  York,  and,  to  his  mother's  dis 
may,  had  made  a  movement  to  join  the  ranks  of  those 
men  noted  curiously  by  aliens  to  the  metropolis — 
men  who,  possessing  long  purses,  addict  themselves 
to  money-making  through  heredity,  and  toil  all  day 
in  office  or  counting-room,  returning  tired  at  night  to 
houses  that  are  palaces,  and  to  wives  better  equipped 
in  luxury  than  are  most  princesses.  Mrs.  Vernon,  in 
dread  of  a  return  to  hated  "  trade,"  protested  vigor 
ously.  And  Jerry,  who,  but  for  a  few  thousands  a 
year  left  him  by  his  father,  was  dependent  upon  her 
for  means,  was  overcome,  and  contented  himself  with 
making  time  pass  merrily,  as  did  the  others  of  his 
class. 

After  Eleanor  found  out  that  the  world — the 
sharp-tongued  world  that  must  have  food  for  talk, 
and  thought  it  no  ill  nature  to  discuss  the  relations 
of  this  conspicuous  pair — was  openly  commenting  on 
her  Gerald's  early  return  to  his  allegiance  to  Hilde- 
garde,  who  was  neither  invited  nor  petted  the  less,  the 
young  wife  ventured  upon  the  common  resource  of  a 
proud,  wounded  creature  under  such  circumstances, 
and  went  out  of  her  way  to  include  Mrs.  de  Lancey 
in  their  domestic  intimacy.  Jerry's  passionate  pro 
tests  that  Eleanor  alone  had  power  to  sway  his  love 
(uttered  in  their  reconciliation  after  bursts  of  im 
patient  anger  that  terrified  his  wife),  that  for  Mrs. 
de  Lancey  he  felt  only  the  sympathy  all  men  must 
feel  for  a  dear  sweet  woman  whose  sorrows  had  made 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  137 

her  sacred,  that  Hildegarde  thought  Eleanor  the  most 
charming,  noble,  generous  being  in  the  world,  and 
valued  her  friendship  beyond  all  earthly  boons— 
these  assurances  the  wife  often  hugged  to  her  heart 
to  soothe  its  aching. 

Sometimes,  when  puzzling  over  the  contradictions 
of  her  married  lot,  Nell  felt  inclined  to  ask  some  one 
of  wider  experience  if  there  had  been  anything  her 
ignorance  had  left  undone  in  her  relation  to  her  hus 
band.  She  could  not  speak  to  her  mother,  or  even 
to  Betty,  for  that  would  be  to  reveal  Jerry's  deficien 
cies,  and  them  she  would  have  shielded  from  her  own 
people  until  death.  It  would  have  been  a  relief  to 
talk  to  Jerry's  mother,  who,  whatever  her  faults  of 
judgment,  loved  him  fervently.  But  Mrs.  Vernoii,  in 
the  aroma  of  plutocracy  upon  its  travels,  had  steamed 
away  in  the  Teutonic  weeks  before,  and  was  heard  of 
as  in  the  act  of  establishing  herself  in  Prince's  Gate 
as  a  householder  among  the  aristocracy  of  London; 
and  Eleanor  had  not  been  long  in  realizing  that  inter 
course  between  the  son  and  mother  seemed  to  result 
rather  in  pain  to  both  than  pleasure  to  either,  and 
that  separation  between  them  was  the  price  of  peace. 

No ;  the  wings  of  appeal  to  the  sympathy  of  fellow- 
beings  must  lie  folded  in  a  case  like  this.  All  that 
Eleanor  prayed  for  was  that  her  own  love  for  Jerry 
might  not  be  strained.  In  silence,  in  the  night, 
abroad  in  gay  gatherings  where  a  chance  word  sum 
moned  it,  this  feeling  was  ever  vigilant. 

Aunt  Tryphena  allowed — and  Tryphena  was  a  vir 
gin  of  uncompromising  hostility  to  modern  fashionable 
life — that  Jerry  had  drawn  a  prize  in  Eleanor.  The 


138  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

colossal  lady,  who,  always  at  odds  with,  her  sister-in- 
law,  lived  alone  in  a  great,  tasteless  house,  was  ac 
counted  queer  and  stingy,  and  would  take  offense 
when  one  least  expected  it,  displayed  in  her  way  quite 
a  liking  for  Mrs.  Gerald. 

"But  for  that  weak-minded,  stand-off  mother,  and 
the  insufferably  sharp  Betty,  and  little  giggling  Trix 
dragging  about  that  monster  of  a  dog,"  Miss  Try- 
phena  Vernon  would  aver  she  considered  that  "Jerry 
had  done  better  than  Luella  Ann  had  any  reason  to 
expect."  Nell,  delighted  at  an  opportunity  to  expend 
a  little  tenderness  upon  anything  that  came  to  her 
from  Gerald,  was  kind  and  forbearing  with  the  cross 
old  woman,  but  Miss  Tryphena  was  too  wont  to  burst 
into  invective  against  Gerald's  surroundings  and  pur 
suits  to  make  her  society  a  thing  to  be  desired. 

There  was  one  of  Eleanor's  friends  of  girlhood  who 
seemed  intuitively  to  fathom  the  young  wife's  embar 
rassments.  Mr.  Theobald,  who  came  to  her  house  in 
frequently,  found  her  one  afternoon,  after  a  little  dif 
ference  with  Jerry  over  the  luncheon-table,  sitting 
alone  with  a  book  in  her  hand,  but  her  thoughts  evi 
dently  scattered.  He  could  not  deny  to  himself  that 
her  face  was  more  lovely  than  on  the  day  when,  as  a 
bride,  she  embodied  the  one  passion  of  his  life-time. 
He  wondered,  with  a  sort  of  fury  against  Fate,  if  it 
could  be  that  those  eyes  of  hers  were  made  so  bewil- 
deringly  soft  by  unshed  tears.  But  he  sat  down,  hat 
in  hand,  in  commonplace  fashion,  in  a  three-cornered 
carved  chair,  talked  of  the  book  she  was  reading,  of 
pictures  in  the  Spring  exhibitions,  of  a  sale  of  curios, 
advised  her  to  keep  up  her  French  by  subscribing  for 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  141 

the  "  Revue  Bleue,"  and  complimented  her  successful 
costume  in  the  late  Centennial  Minuet. 

"  Oh !  I  am  glad  that  tempest  in  a  tea-pot  is  over," 
said  Eleanor,  smiling.  "  They  say  our  ball  has  set 
the  women  and  half  the  men  in  society  at  war.  For 
tunately,  my  share  was  limited  to  allowing  Elsa  to 
put  on  me  a  l  grandmother's  gown '  made  new  for  the 
occasion,  and  standing  up  in  it  like  a  fraud  to  dance 
where  Mrs.  Van  Loon  told  me  to  go.  You  11  believe 
me  when  I  tell  you  how  tired  I  am  of  parties,  how 
I  'm  wearying  for  the  summer  and  life  out-doors.  I 
always  told  you  that  I  am  a  gipsy  at  heart — in  the 
days  when  you  lent  me  your  copies  of  '  Lavengro '  and 
the  '  Bible  in  Spain/  don't  you  remember  ? " 

Did  he  remember?  The  staid,  conventional  man 
sitting  opposite  her  felt  his  heart  thump  at  an  unjus 
tifiable  rate  of  speed.  Theobald  made  haste  to  lead 
the  conversation  back  to  its  safer  channels. 

"  If  you  were  sovereign,  Trix  was  a  formidable  rival 
at  the  ball,"  he  said.  "  I  could  not  imagine  the  little 
witch  would  come  out  such  a  stunning  beauty  as  she 
was  that  night.  Everybody  has  been  talking  of  it." 

"Trix  is  a  darling,"  Eleanor  said,  affectionately 
proud.  "  But,  Tony,  she  's  begun  to  mystify  even  me, 
of  late.  It  looks — I  don't  like  to  think  so,  but  it  looks 
—  as  if  she  means  to  feed  the  flame  of  Timothy  with 
fuel.  When  I  question  her,  she  evades  me,  laughing 
and  jesting.  Oh  !  I  shall  owe  a  grudge,  indeed,  to  the 
world  we  live  in,  if  it  colors  Trix  to  make  her  tolerate 
that  man." 

"  They  are  making  bets  at  the  clubs  she  '11  take 
him,"  Theobald  said  grimly. 


142  SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE 

"  Trix  and  I  have  seen  less  of  each  other  recently/' 
said  Eleanor.  "  I  'm  afraid  I  have  been  more  absorbed 
than  I  meant  to  be  in  my  own  affairs,  and  Betty, — 
Tony,  you  know  Betty  as  well  as  I  do;  you  have 
always  had  such  an  influence  in  ( quieting  her  down,' 
as  mama  says — Betty  's  such  an  oyster  about  herself, 
— do  you  think  she  can't  be  well?" 

"  I  think  you  were  always  one  to  distress  yourself 
with  imaginings  about  those  you  love.  I  remember, 
when  you  were  a  little  girl,  going  once  to  your 
mother's  house  to  find  you  walking  up  and  down  the 
floor  hushing  a  doll  to  sleep  that  you  said  had  scarlet- 
fever,  and  your  eyes  filling  with  real  tears  as  you  im 
plored  me  to  make  no  noise." 

"I  suppose  I  am  foolish,"  Eleanor  answered,  her 
eyes  deepening  with  the  remembrance.  How  dim 
and  far  away  that  play-time  seemed  !  How  clear  the 
present !  How  vast,  how  surcharged  with  realities  ! 

Betty,  arriving  on  the  moment,  answered  their  spec 
ulations  by  an  appearance  of  plentiful  good  spirits. 

"I  am  just  from  a  final  meeting  of  the  ball  com 
mittee,"  she  said  gaily.  "  Such  high  jinks  !  Every 
one  was  flurried,  and  we  voted  every  way  the  cat 
jumped.  The  chairman  and  the  treasurer  don't  speak, 
and  the  secretary  cried  with  vexation  when  she  an 
nounced  a  letter  from  the  Bureau  of  Authorized  Char 
ity  warning  us  against  Mrs.  Calliope  Buncombe  as 
an  egregious  impostor.  Mrs.  Duncombe  was  missing, 
there  was  a  general  row,  and  what  conclusion  we  ar 
rived  at  I  have  not  yet  found  out.  But  I  think  we 
are  certainly  pledged  to  keep  the  matter  out  of  the 
newspapers." 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  143 

"And  the  'Fund  for  Oppressed  Wives'?"  asked 
Eleanor. 

"What  Mrs.  Duncombe  has  got — if  she  has  any — 
will  no  doubt  be  made  up  quietly  out  of  the  pockets 
of  the  heads  of  the  committees  j  and  it  seems  to  me 
we  voted  the  rest,  after  expenses  shall  have  been  paid, 
to  the  Baby  Hospital.  But  one  comfort  is,  there  won't 
be  very  much  to  give.  Oh,  it  was  beautiful ! "  said 
naughty  Betty  Halliday. 

"  It 's  lucky  summer  is  at  hand  to  afford  you  inde 
fatigable  workers  a  rest,"  said  Theobald. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  call  rest.  Talk,  in  the  in 
tervals  of  business,  to-day,  was  just  like  one  of  those 
newspaper  columns  called  '  Summer  Plans  of  the  Four 
Hundred.'  I  was  worn  out  with  listening  to  the  trials 
of  people  with  cottages  to  rent,  and  of  people  who  have 
rented  cottages.  One  really  has  enough,  in  the  course 
of  time,  of  the  holes  in  other  people's  saucepans.  And 
I  'm  free  to  say,  I  don't  care  a  rap  whether  Mrs.  Bul 
lion  is  going  to  try  Bar  Harbor,  or  whether  Hilda 
de  Lancey  has  taken  that  tiny  box  of  the  Willie  With- 
erells'  at  Newport.  Nell,  you  are  actually  pale  ;  it  is 
this  warmish  weather,  and  that  bunch  of  heliotrope 
too  near.  Tony,  put  it  away,  and  open  another  win 
dow,  please." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Eleanor,  attempting  to  smile. 
"  I  told  Tony  just  now,  I  am  wearying  for  the  open." 

"  Has  Jerry  told  you  when  you  are  to  sail  ? " 

"  No — it  is  not  settled ;  he  has  not  decided,"  Eleanor 
answered,  her  mouth  quivering  a  little. 

"Not  Newport,  I  hope?  I  thought  there  was  no 
doubt  of  your  summer  of  roaming  in  Switzerland.  It 


144  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

is  just  what  you  need ;  you  have  talked  of  it  so  long/' 
said  Betty  in  a  vexed  tone.  "  Tony,  do  help  me  to 
make  this  pair  of  weathercocks  decide  on  their  plans." 

"  You  show  the  influence  of  your  meeting  of  l  Op 
pressed  Wives/"  said  Theobald,  rousing  a  little,  to 
shake  off  a  sort  of  apathy.  "  Perhaps,  if  there  's  time, 
you  '11  both  come  with  me  now  to  the  gallery  where 
they  've  that  picture  I  was  just  telling  Nell  about, — 
the  swan-song  of  a  young  artist  who  died  on  the 
threshold  of  his  fame, — and  you  must,  of  course,  see 
the  l  Carmencita/  an  astonishing  piece  of  execution. 
Some  one  calls  Sargent  the  Paganini  of  modern 
painters.  Come,  Nell ;  a  walk  will  do  you  good." 

It  was  like  old  times,  this  hurrying  on  her  bonnet, 
and  setting  out  between  Betty  and  Theobald  to  look 
at  pictures;  and  Eleanor  enjoyed  it.  They  strolled 
down  the  avenue  leisurely,  the  soft  air  of  May  inclin 
ing  them  to  indolence,  and  the  brightly  tinted  groups 
of  saunterers  offering  amusement  to  the  eye.  Within 
the  gallery,  they  paused  for  a  while  before  the  daz 
zling  "  Carmencita,"  and  then  went  back  to  a  frame 
shrouded  in  black,  with  a  tablet  to  show  the  name  of 
the  artist  and  dates  of  his  birth  and  recent  death. 

"Surf  and  Fog"  was  the  title.  Billows  crowned 
with  foam  rolling  in  at  the  feet  of  the  looker-on,  the 
sun,  a  disk  of  orange,  striving  to  burn  its  way  through 
a  veil  of  sea-fog.  Only  that ;  but  the  power  and  color 
and  life  in  it  had  fixed  a  masterpiece  upon  the  canvas. 

Betty,  captured  by  a  bright-eyed  little  man  with  hair 
like  a  pony's  mane,  to  whose  lightest  utterance  about 
art  she  listened  with  respect,  went  off  to  make  the 
round  of  the  gallery.  Nell  and  Theobald,  busy  in  con- 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  145 

versation  which  had  drifted  back  into  their  old  Tin- 
trammeled  familiarity,  wandered  on  till  they  paused 
before  a  breezy  bit  of  landscape  called  "  Grouse-Cover/7 
and  there  remained,  waiting  for  Betty  to  find  them 
out. 

Neither  noticed  that  they  were  the  objects  of  scru 
tiny  from  two  people  who  stood  back  of  them,  then 
abruptly  crossed  in  front  of  Eleanor,  and  went  to  the 
other  room. 

"Do  you  bow  to  that  woman,  Nell?"  asked  Theo 
bald,  surprised. 

"I — my  husband  has  known  Major  Shafto  for  a 
long  time.  They  were  old  comrades  traveling  in  the 
East,"  she  answered,  coloring  deeply.  The  sight  of 
Mrs.  Shafto's  face  brought  to  her  so  much  she  fain 
would  have  forgotten. 

"And  that  cad,  Leeds.  When  did  you  give  him 
the  right  to  speak  to  you  ?  Have  you  done  anything 
to  affront  him  ?  I  should  like  to  kick  the  little  beggar 
for  the  way  he  glowered  at  you  out  of  those  mean 
eyes  of  his." 

"  Oh,  Tony,  I  will  tell  you.  He  thinks  I  set  Friar 
Tuck  on  him."  And,  half-laughing,  she  gave  him  a 
recital  of  the  episode  with  Trix's  big  St.  Bernard. 

"  It  served  him  exactly  right,  and  Tuck  should  be 
awarded  a  new  collar  for  his  good  judgment.  But  it 
made  Leeds  ridiculous,  and  humbled  his  enormous 
vanity,  so  I  am  not  surprised  at  his  vengeful  look. 
Keep  out  of  his  way,  Nell  —  that  fellow  would  stoop 
to  anything ;  and  I  may  as  well  put  you  on  your  guard 
about  Mrs.  Shafto.  I  Ve  known  her  always,  and  in 
addition  to  her  other  shining  qualities  she  is  brim- 
10 


146  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

ful  of  spites  against  women.  I  happen  to  know  that 
she  hates  your  good  mother  as  the  devil  hates  holy 
water." 

"  My  instincts  have  been  all  against  her/'  Eleanor 
said,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  wish  we  had  not  met  those  two, 
to  spoil  such  a  pleasant  old-timey  afternoon  as  you 
have  given  me." 

"I  have  made  the  circuit,"  Betty  said,  rejoining 
them.  "For  the  last  ten  minutes  Carver  has  been 
pointing  out  to  me  the  beauties  of  an  impressionist 
landscape  where  they  have  upset  a  mustard  pot  on 
the  lower  part  of  the  canvas,  and  laid  on  pink  plaster 
with  a  trowel  up  above ;  and  I  have  sworn  it  is  in 
spired,  and  he  's  gone  home  to  write  it  up  for  his 
paper.  But,  on  the  whole,  I  must  agree  with  you, 
Tony;  this  is  a  brilliant  and  creditable  show." 

Betty  was  cheerful  and  kindly ;  her  dark  face  full 
of  animation ;  her  pince-nez  did  not  conceal  a  sparkle 
in  her  eye.  Eleanor's  fears  for  her  health  and  spirits 
must  have  been  figments  of  a  fancy  disordered  by 
over-search  for  hidden  motives ! 

AWAY  from  the  stir  and  bustle  of  the  town,  its 
activity  made  languorous  by  one  of  those  bursts  of 
heat  that  so  often  come  to  New  York  in  spring,  a 
young  man  was  speeding  as  fast  as  the  "Washington 
express  could  carry  him — and  that  went  no  more 
rapidly  ahead  than  his  eager  fancy,  released  to  revel 
in  the  thought  of  a  glimpse  at  home  and  mother. 
Brock  Vyvan,  going  off  for  a  two-days'  holiday,  put 
away  moping  thoughts  as  every  station  brought  him 
nearer  to  the  one  he  desired  to  see — a  stopping-place 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  147 

whence  a  way-train  presently  would  jog  him  leisurely 
into  a  country  as  green  as  Eden,  and  as  quiet,  too. 

The  little  old  station,  of  which  one  half  was  a 
country  "  store  "  j  the  few,  shabby,  mud-splashed,  slow- 
speaking  loungers  who  stepped  up  to  greet  the  sole 
descending  passenger ;  the  store-keeper,  who  was  also 
station-master,  and  who  saluted  Brock  sociably,  shift 
ing  his  quid;  the  two  or  three  negroes  who  hung 
about  at  train-time,  looking  the  epitome  of  the  old 
South's  decay, — as  much  as  the  passing  traveler  gen 
erally  sees  of  the  South  in  transitu,  to  prejudge  all 
accordingly, —  Brock  viewed  with  forbearing  eyes. 
Passing  out  to  the  rear  platform,  he  saw  the  old 
buggy  coated  with  red  mud,  containing  a  patriarchal 
negro  —  attired  in  a  Confederate  army-coat,  from  which 
the  brass  buttons  had  been  removed,  and  wearing  an 
ancient  Panama  hat — who  smiled  a  toothless  welcome, 
as  he  controlled  the  quivering  pair,  Flash  and  Star 
light,  that  Brock's  own  hand  had  broken  to  harness. 
The  young  man  stopped  to  caress  his  beauties,  and 
to  fancy  them  in  Park  array,  drawing  some  shining 
vehicle  with  rubber  tires  over  perfect  roads.  If  they 
lacked  proper  grooming  to  bring  their  coats  to  satin, 
it  was  because  old  Enos  had  been  at  work  in  the  field 
since  "  sun-up." 

Putting  his  portmanteau  into  the  trap,  the  young 
man  sprang  up  beside  Enos,  and  took  the  reins.  Obe 
dient  to  his  voice,  the  horses  went  forward  with  a 
bound,  coming  down,  despite  themselves,  ere  long,  to 
a  snail's  speed  through  mire  sometimes  hub-deep  in 
holes. 

"  You  '11  have  to  be  a  mite  keerf  ul  here,  honey,"  the 


148  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

old  negro  said,  as  they  plunged  down  a  steep  incline 
to  a  valley  where  a  yellow  current  rioted,  sweeping 
their  way  from  sight.  "Tears  like  I  disremember 
ever  seein'  Goose  Crik  git  up  so  high.  It  was  for  fear 
of  her  gittin'  wet,  I  done  'suaded  Miss  not  to  come  to 
de  deepo  to  meet  you.  You  knows  de  best  crossing 
Marse  Broekenbro' — close  long  o'  dem  stakes.  Hoi' 
in  Starlight,  suh  j  dat  filly 's  kind  o'  feared  o'  water  to 
dis  day." 

"  Look  out  for  my  bag/7  called  Brock,  and  in  a  min 
ute  they  were  in  the  midst  of  the  fierce  little  river, 
battling  smartly  against  its  rush,  the  water  rising  in 
mid-stream  to  the  horses'  necks,  and  washing  to  the 
seat,  where  the  two  men  had  gathered  themselves  up 
into  a  bunch. 

"  Dat  ar  little  fresh'  save  me  a-cleanin'  off  de  bug 
gy,"  grinned  Enos,  when  they  emerged  dripping  on 
the  farther  side. 

Brock's  spirits  rose.  He  knew  every  nook  and  din 
gle  of  the  flower-besprinkled  woods,  every  landmark 
of  the  rich  farming  country  forsaken  by  modern  en 
terprise.  Beguiling  the  way  with  the  old  negro's  talk 
about  plantation  and  quarter  incidents,  he,  in  turn, 
brought  many  a  stare  of  wonderment  to  Enos's  eyes 
by  chance  disclosures  of  the  scale  of  New  York's  mag 
nificence  in  things  of  every  day.  It  was  when  they 
finally  pulled  up  at  a  venerable  gate,  which  Enos 
scrambled  down  to  open,  that  the  patriarch  lost  a 
little  of  his  sprightliness. 

"  You  mout  take  de  lower  road  to  de  Gret  Hus,  suh," 
he  said.  "  It 's  easier  on  de  hosses." 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  149 

"  It 's  a  good  mile  longer,  you  old  humbug,"  an 
swered  Brock,  looking  over-head  and  before  him  into 
the  green  arcade,  filtered  with  sunshine,  and  senti 
neled  with  boles  of  ancient  trees.  These  woods  were 
to  be  his  own,  and  of  their  witchery  nothing  he  had 
ever  seen  elsewhere  had  robbed  them.  He  had  his 
way,  and  followed  the  customary  road  leading  to  the 
house,  until  ringing  sounds  of  the  axes  of  busy  wood 
cutters  made  him  rein  in  the  horses  shortly. 

"What  's  that,  old  man!"  he  asked,  a  frown  com 
ing  upon  his  face. 

"Oh,  Marse  Brockenbro',  suh,"  Enos  said  mourn 
fully,  "it  was  'cause  o'  dis  I  was  wantin'  you  to  go  de 
udder  way,  an'  let  Miss  hab  de  breakin'  o'  de  news. 
Old  Marse  has  done  tuk  a  contrac'  to  supply  de  new 
railroad  wid  ties,  suh,  what  's  goin'  to  run  nigh  heah. 
Farmin'  's  powerful  po'  down  dis  a- way,  an'  we  ain' 
been  flourishin' — we  needs  de  money  mightily,  Marse 
Brockenbro'." 

"  That  '11  do.  Don't  say  any  more  about  it,"  Brock 
answered,  biting  his  lip.  He  drove  through  the  hol 
low  in  which  the  men  were  at  work,  and  vouchsafed 
not  a  glance  at  the  clearings  where  unwonted  sunlight 
peered  into  nature's  hiding-place  for  a  lush  growth  of 
ferns  and  mosses.  The  piles  of  wood,  already  cut  and 
stacked,  seemed  to  him  so  many  funeral  pyres  for  the 
sacrifice  of  things  beloved  and  reverenced.  When 
they  had  gained  the  higher  land  beyond,  and  were 
trotting  briskly  along  under  a  forest  archway,  his 
quick  eyes  saw  at  the  end  of  it,  waiting  by  the  road 
side  beneath  a  huge  old  cherry-tree,  lately  a  pyramid 
10* 


150  SWEET  BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

of  bloom,  a  tall  figure  clothed  in  black,  at  her  side  a 
couple  of  hounds,  and  a  hearth-bred  lamb  that  fol 
lowed  like  a  dog. 

Brock  uttered  a  boyish  shout  as  his  mother  waved 
her  hand.  She  was  in  his  arms,  and  the  trap  sent 
forward,  a  moment  later.  There  was  no  frown  left 
upon  his  brow  as  they  strolled  toward  the  house,  her 
thinner  blood  pulsing  a  glad  answer  to  the  rich  cur 
rent  in  his  young  veins.  In  the  perfectness  of  love 
betwreen  these  two  was  to  be  found  the  religion  of 
Vyvan's  life. 

THE  old  dwelling  of  Mount  St.  Dunstan  stood  near 
the  summit  of  a  hill  crowned  with  an  orchard,  its 
famous  gardens  sheltered  from  the  wind.  Farther 
down  the  slope  were  the  quaint  colonial  stables  where 
tradition  said  many  grandees  of  early  American  so 
ciety  had  sent  their  steeds  (which  must  have  been 
giraffes)  to  be  tied  under  racks  suspended  high  upon 
the  walls,  while  their  masters  enjoyed  the  good  cheer 
of  the  mansion-house.  Here  Enos,  who  was  already 
engaged  in  unharnessing  Flash  and  Starlight,  looked 
from  Brock  to  his  mistress  with  an  imploring  gaze, 
as  the  young  man  paused  at  the  stable  door. 

"  One  minute,  mother,  till  I  've  had  a  peep  at  Houp- 
la,"  he  said. 

"  Brockenborough — my  dear  boy,"  she  answered, 
holding  his  hand  within  her  own,  "  I  hoped  you  would 
wait  till  to-morrow.  "We  have  sold  the  colt  to  Rhyn- 
ders  for  a  gentleman  in  Washington,  at  a  price  we 
could  not  afford  to  refuse." 

Brock's  lips  were  compressed,  but  he  said  nothing. 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  151 

He  could  not  bear  to  visit  the  empty  stall,  and,  squeez 
ing  his  mother's  hand,  he  walked  on  with  her  past  the 
house  to  the  terrace  above,  and  stopped  by  a  moss- 
grown  sun-dial  to  look  back. 

Built  of  substantial  brick  trimmed  with  white  stone, 
the  two  advancing  wings  to  the  house  formed  a  cen 
tral  court  where  the  turf  grew  fine  and  soft  over 
vaulted  cellars  beneath.  Tall  old  trees  stroked  the 
hipped  roof  with  their  branches,  and  ivy,  long  un- 
pruned,  curtained  the  walls.  Pigeons  wheeling  and 
circling  in  the  air,  a  collection  of  dogs  of  assorted 
breeds  and  values,  the  distant  view  of  wagons  follow 
ing  a  farm-road  from  the  fields,  the  sound  of  negroes 
singing  or  whistling — all  served  to  relieve  the  almost 
somber  influence  of  the  scene. 

"  We  shall  find  him  in  the  garden,"  said  Mrs.  Vy van's 
low  voice,  breaking  Brock's  reverie.  "You  will  be 
glad  to  see  your  dear  grandfather  so  wonderfully 
well.  The  spring,  when  he  can  live  out  of  doors, 
seems  to  bring  him  a  new  lease  of  life." 

They  passed  through  a  turnstile  set  in  a  hedge  of 
box,  and  lo  !  they  were  in  a  fairy-land  of  bloom.  Fled 
away  were  the  young  man's  thoughts  of  sorrow.  The 
declining  sunlight  here  lay  cradled  on  verdant  spaces 
of  turf,  alternating  with  flower-beds  of  ancient  pat 
tern  aglow  with  fragrant  color.  Leaning  over  a  plot 
of  late-blooming  tulips,  the  aged  master  of  Mount 
St.  Dunstan  was  descried,  his  familiar,  the  golden 
collie,  swopt  by  his  faded  coat-tails. 

"  Brockenbro',  my  dear  boy,  you  are  welcome  home," 
the  old  man  said  in  a  reedy  voice,  his  blue  eyes  filled 
with  merry  twinkles.  "  Just  look  at  my  tulips,  will 


152  SWEET   BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

you?  It  's  the  first  year  I've  made  'em  jostle  the 
roses.  Ah,  building  houses  to  last  for  all  time  is  very 
well  for  you,  sir,  but  give  me  the  planting  of  flowers 
that  come  fresh  every  season,  and  that  have  a  thou 
sand  freaks  of  beauty  you  can  never  count  upon." 

It  was  no  wonder  the  county  was  proud  of  old 
Mr.  Octavius  Brockenborough,  his  grandson  fondly 
thought,  while  surveying  the  lines  of  the  cameo-face, 
the  long  silver  locks  that  fell  upon  his  slightly  stooped 
shoulders,  the  genial  kindness  of  his  smile.  Eighty- 
four,  and  the  survivor  of  a  once  numerous  and  influ 
ential  family,  his  sons  had  dropped  away  before  him, 
and  of  his  daughters,  married  and  scattered,  only  Mrs. 
Vyvan,  the  youngest  of  his  children,  had  presented 
him  with  a  descendant.  "A  fine  type — a  fine  speci 
men  of  our  best  old  stock,"  his  neighbors  would  say 
on  the  rare  occasions  when  the  old  gentleman  showed 
himself  in  public,  at  church,  or  court-house.  "No 
business  sense,"  they  would  add  reluctantly.  "  Never 
had  any  idea  of  holding  on  to  his  money,  or  of  run 
ning  his  farms  to  pay.  And,  to  sum  all  up,  he  's  been 
giving,  and  putting  his  name  to  notes,  and  letting 
dead-beats  prey  on  him,  all  his  life.  And  that 's  what  's 
become  of  the  fine  Brockenborough  property,  once  as 
good  as  any  in  the  State." 

There  was  no  pinch  of  fortune  visible  in  the  old 
man's  face  to-day,  as  he  led  Brock  hither  and  thither 
among  his  darlings,  showing  their  various  perfections 
and  shielding  their  defects.  The  young  fellow  could 
not  help  thinking  how  somebody  he  knew  would  like 
to  patter  about  these  blossomy  walks,  and  listen  to 
their  kind  old  master's  talk,  How  it  would  make  her 


"YES;  IT  is  TOO  BAD. 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  155 

laugh — one  of  those  hearty,  ringing  peals — to  see  all 
of  the  dogs,  save  Colin  Clout,  the  privileged,  stand  in 
a  ring  around  the  turnstile,  eying  the  insider  with 
abject  envy! 

When  Mrs.  Vyvan,  with  her  store-room  keys  and 
her  pet  lamb,  had  betaken  herself  away  on  supper 
thoughts  intent,  the  old  man  led  his  grandson  in-doors 
to  the  best  parlor,  where,  throwing  back  the  shutters, 
he  admitted  the  full  light. 

"You  ;11  be  sorry  to  see  dampness  has  played  the 
mischief  with  the  Vandyck,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a 
portrait  in  a  tarnished  frame  hanging  above  the  chim- 
neypiece — a  cavalier  in  court-dress,  whose  lip  and 
cheek  were  overspread  by  a  stain  like  a  lichen  upon  a 
stone. 

"  Yes  5  it  is  too  bad,"  went  on  old  Octavius,  answer 
ing  his  grandson's  comment.  "But  I  believe  your 
mother  has  been  writing  to  an  artist  in  New  York, 
who  will  come  down  to  set  it  straight  when  we  can 
raise  the  money  to  send  for  him.  What  '11  ye  think, 
Brockie,  my  boy,  of  a  Senator's  wife  in  Washington, 
who  'd  heard  of  our  pictures,  sending  me  an  offer  for 
the  Vandyck  ?  Well,  well,  they  and  the  land  and  the 
books  are  about  all  we  've  got  left.  Those  two  por 
traits  Woolaston  painted  of  my  father  and  mother — 
no  great  value  as  works  of  art,  perhaps,  but  I  'm  fond 
of  them.  And  my  Aunt  Dolly,  in  hunting  costume, 
yonder,  over  the  door,  was  married  in  the  very  spot 
where  you  're  standing.  Dead  and  gone  all !  Such  a 
fine  frolic  as  we  had — I  was  a  boy  of  nineteen,  and, 
during  the  week  of  merry-making  over  her  wedding, 
danced  out  a  pair  of  pumps.  The  house  full,  and  the 


156  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

neighbors'  houses  full,  plenty  of  wine  in  our  cellars, 
and  the  stalls  of  the  stables  filled — heigh-ho  !  Did  I 
tell  ye,  boy,  when  the  locust-tree  blew  down  a  month 
ago,  we  found  upon  one  branch  nests  of  half  a  dozen 
different  kinds  of  birds  ?  Recently  your  mother  was 
troubled  by  bees  in  her  pantry- window,  and  we  could 
find  no  trace  of  'em.  At  last  old  Tom  took  off  a  plank 
or  two  of  the  clapboarding  putside,  and,  by  George ! 
sir,  he  got  five  pounds  o'  delicious  honey  up  under 
the  eaves.  And  I  've  laid  hands  on  the  Camerarius 
Plautus  you  wanted, — it  was  tucked  away  on  the  shelf 
with  the  l  Sporting  Magazines/  where  you  left  it  your 
self,  you  rascal — meant  to  send  it  by  express,  but  it 
passed  out  o'  my  mind,  there  's  so  much  to  do,  and  so 
much  going  on  —  " 

With  the  old  man's  voice  in  his  ears,  Brock  stepped 
out  of  the  moldering  room  full  of  phantoms  of  long- 
gone  solvency.  In  the  corridor  beyond  they  found  an 
aged  negress,  tidily  dressed,  and  bobbing  droll  courte 
sies  to  the  gentlemen. 

"  Dilsey,  what  you  want,  girl  ? "  said  old  Octavius. 
"  Why,  Brockie,  it 's  you  Aunt  Dilsey  has  come  in  to 
see,  of  course." 

"  Sarvant,  marsters,  hopin'  you  's  well.  I 's  uncom 
mon  po'ly,  thank  de  Lawd.  I  des  drapped  in  to  pay 
my  respecks  to  Marse  Brockenbro',  en  brung  him  two 
guinea-eggs  for  his  brekfus.  Ain't  you  got  no  news 
to  tell  de  plantation  folks,  Marse  Brockie,  'bout  some 
mighty  rich  lady  what  we  's  spectin'  you  to  git  mar 
ried  to,  so  's  to  fotch  de  old  Moun'  St.  Duns'n  times 
back  ag'in  ? " 

"No  news,  Aunt  Dilsey,"  Brock  answered,  trying 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  157 

to  smile ;  but  the  question  hit  him  hard.  When,  be 
fore  bedtime,  at  an  hour  they  had  always  chosen  for 
mutual  confidence,  the  mother  and  son  were  alone 
together,  he  sternly  put  away  the  desire  to  tell  her  of 
his  bewitchment.  He  even  repressed  the  intended 
request  to  his  grandfather  for  a  box  of  the  "rarest, 
fairest "  of  Mount  St.  Dunstan  roses,  to  take  back  to 
"  a  friend  who  had  been  kind  "  to  him  in  New  York. 


XI 


Y  dear  Trix,"  said  Miss  Halliday  to 
her  younger  sister,  one  June  morn 
ing  when  they  were  sitting  together 
in  their  second-story  room  looking 
into  the  Square, — Trix,  with  her 
"Promessi  Sposi"  and  dictionary, 
Betty,  who  had  been  writing  the  usual  notes,  emerging 
from  a  darkling  reverie, — "  you  may  as  well  pay  atten 
tion,  for  I  'm  about  to  be  hateful." 

"  Don't  bring  me  back  to  things  of  every  day,  please. 
Here  am  I  doing  my  best  to  forget  my  gnawing  anxi 
ety  as  to  Jack's  getting  into  the  boat.  I  think  it 's 
positive  cruelty  to  animals  to  keep  the  men — and 
their  sisters  —  waiting  on  the  anxious  bench  this  way, 
and  never  to  know  till  the  last  minute  whether  he  is 
going  to  row  in  the  race  or  not." 

"I  have  a  vague  idea  the  universe  will  keep  on 
about  the  same  if  Jack  does  n't  row  this  year.  There 
are  matters  more  important  nearer  home,  my  dear.  I 
wonder  if  you  know  how  abominably  poor  we  are." 

"  I  Ve  heard  it  ever  since  I  could  think,"  said  Trix, 
carelessly.  "  Everybody  in  New  York  who  is  n't  rich 
is  abominably  poor." 

158 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  159 

"  It  has  come  to  a  crisis,  now." 

"  I  thought  so,  when  the  stair-carpet  is  so  worn  it 
is  n't  worth  sending  to  be  cleaned  again ;  and  our 
dinners, — it 's  a  mercy,  with  my  appetite,  that  we  're 
invited  out  so  much, —  and  I  really  don't  know  how 
I  'm  clothed.  I  'm  quite  aware  that  in  spite  of  our 
dear  little  mummy's  plotting  and  piecing  to  turn  me 
out  a  credit  to  the  family,  I  never  am  equipped  from 
head  to  foot  like  other  girls.  When  I  get  a  good 
jacket,  there  's  no  skirt  to  wear  with  it,  and  my  winter 
hats  have  to  go  with  spring  costumes.  Just  think  of 
Nell,  Betty — what  richness  !  Mama  was  very  liberal 
with  her  trousseau,  and  Jerry  has  made  her  buy  such 
a  lot  more.  Nell  wanted  to  give  me  her  new  marron 
cloth  that  just  came  home ;  but  I  would  n't  hear  of  it 
—  would  you?" 

"  No,  certainly.  Let  us  be  independent  of  wealthy 
brothers-in-law,  or  perish.  But  do  you  know  what 
the  mother  has  gone  to  her  lawyer's  again  this  morn 
ing  for  ? " 

"  Something  about  that  mortgage,  that 's  like  Poe's 
raven  011  our  door,  I  suppose.  It 's  been  there  for 
ever,  but  we  still  keep  along." 

"  She  's  been  eating  up  her  capital  for  five  years 
past,  and  thought  she  could  hold  out,  poor  dear,  until 
you — I  'm  hopeless,  and  don't  count." 

"Until  I — what  have  I  got  to  do  with  eating  capi 
tal?" 

"  Till  you  follow  Nell's  example,  and  supply  yourself 
with  a  somebody  to  give  you  such  an  establishment  as 
mother  thinks  a  Halliday  girl  should  have." 

"I  don't  know  why  a  Halliday  girl  should  n't  be 


160  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

easy  her  own  way,"  said  Trix,  still  lightly,  but  sitting 
more  erect  and  looking  more  womanlike. 

"That  's  mother's  weakness,  and  she  's  had  it  so 
long  we  can't  alter  matters  now,"  went  on  Betty,  per 
sistently.  "  She — she  asked  me  to  have  this  talk  with 
you.  She  thinks  we  have  kept  you  long  enough  in 
ignorance  of  the  real  state  of  affairs.  There  's  been 
an  offer  to  buy  the  house." 

"  This  house — my  father's  house !  "  said  Trix. 

"It  is  too  big  for  ordinary  people,  and  would  cost 
immensely  to  do  over  in  modern  fashion.  But  the 

Club  has  had  an  eye  on  it  for  a  long  time,  it 

seems,  and  mother  got  their  offer  yesterday." 

"  She  will  never  accept  it !  "  protested  Trix. 

"  The  money  would  free  her  from  a  load  of  care, 
and  pay  Jack's  way  through  college,  and — oh,  a  hun 
dred  things." 

"  It  would  break  Jack's  heart  to  sell  this  house.  We 
have  always  planned  how  he  is  to  live  here  with  his 
wife, — at  least  I  have, — and  I  could  see  Jack  was 
pleased." 

"  Jack,  like  the  rest  of  us,  will  have  to  submit  to 
common  sense.  Of  course  the  matter  won't  be  decided 
immediately,  but  mother  thought  you  ought  to  know  ; 
and,  Trix,  I  believe  she  wants,  too,  to  warn  you  a  little 

—  against — we  see  what  outsiders  do  not,  of  course 

—  how  much  is  depending  upon  you." 

The  smooth-spoken  Betty  was  actually  hesitating, 
nonplussed  for  proper  words.  Trix,  with  the  impulse 
of  a  colt  in  a  paddock,  wanted  to  shy  off  and  gallop 
away  to  the  other  end  of  it. 

"I  don't  know — yes,  I  won't  tell  a  lie,  I  do  know 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  161 

what  you  mean/'  she  said  suddenly,  turning  scarlet. 
"  But  you  may  just  tell  mama  she  's  no  cause  to  warn 
me, —  I  have  n't  been  running1  the  risks  she  fears, — it 
is  n't  likely  I  '11  go  after  a  man  who  don't  want  me. 
And  if  he  did,  does  n't  every  soul  I  know  tell  me  that 
to  marry  a  young  professional  man  in  New  York  is 
putting  a  clog  on  him  that  holds  him  back?  Who 
wants  to  hold  anybody  back?"  our  Trix  ended,  dan 
gerously  near  to  tears. 

"  It  was  n't  only  that,"  Betty  said,  for  her,  wretch 
edly  embarrassed.  "People  have  been  talking  to  her 
a  good  deal  about  the  encouragement  you  're  supposed 
to  be  giving  Timothy  Van  Loon— 

"  O  girls,  how  good  to  find  you  in  here  and  alone !  " 
cried  Eleanor,  who,  interrupting  Betty,  saved  her  from 
a  stormy  answer.  While  they  gave  her  glad  welcome, 
Nell's  sisters  read  in  her  face  traces  of  recent  disquie 
tude.  It  had  not  taken  long  for  the  young  wife's 
family  to  find  out  that  her  life  was  not  all  on  velvet, 
and  they  had  wisely  agreed  to  invite  no  confidences. 
And  so  Mrs.  Gerald's  entrance,  preceded  by  old  An 
drews,  who  had  never  walked  before  Nell  Halliday  up 
to  the  second  floor,  had  about  it  just  the  right  amount 
of  flutter  and  importance  the  movements  of  the  bril 
liantly  successful  member  of  the  family  should  have. 
Betty  got  up  to  meet  her,  and  Trix  gave  her  the  best 
arm-chair,  sitting  down  on  a  stool  at  her  feet  prepared 
to  admire  indiscriminately  all  that  Eleanor  said,  or 
did,  or  wore.  And  old  Norah,  arriving  in  a  clean  cap 
and  apron,  hovered  in  the  background,  casting  fond 
looks  upon  her  former  nursling. 

"  You  dear  thing,  how  good  of  you  to  come ! "  said 
11 


162  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

Trix,  hugging  her  sister's  knees.  "You  're  just  in 
time  to  prevent  Betty  and  me  from  squabbling." 

But  she  took  care  not  to  tell  the  subject  of  their 
difference,  nor  was  Mrs.  Gerald  Vernon  admitted  into 
the  family  discussion  about  what  Betty  called  their 
"  crisis."  It  was  tacitly  understood  among  them  that 
no  possible  representation  should  be  made  to  Eleanor 
that  might  seem  to  appeal  for  aid  from  Eleanor's 
husband.  Until  and  after  the  arrival  of  their  mother, 
pale  and  jaded,  from  her  expedition  down-town,  the 
talk  was  as  cheerful  as  the  sisters  three  could  make  it. 
Trix  could  not  but  note  how,  in  gazing  at  her  com 
fortable,  smartly  dressed  daughter,  whose  carriage 
and  footman  stopped  the  way,  Mrs.  Halliday's  face 
relaxed  from  its  lines  of  settled  care. 

Before  Nell  arose  to  go,  it  was  clear  she  had  some 
thing  particular  to  say.  Her  sisters,  who  knew  every 
expression  of  her  candid  face,  watched  a  blush  come 
into  it  as  she  divulged  the  object  of  her  call. 

"  Jerry  has  made  a  plan.  He  says  all  the  boating- 
men  think  there  is  no  doubt  Jack  will  be  on  the  Yale 
crew.  And  in  any  case  it  will  be  a  treat  to  Trix  —  " 

"  Don't  say  to  go  up  to  New  London  for  the  race, 
or  I  shall  lose  my  senses  with  delight ! "  ejaculated 
Trix. 

"Yes;  he  thinks  we  shall  all  enjoy  it — mama  and 
Betty  too." 

"  Count  me  out,"  said  Mrs.  Halliday,  promptly.  "  I 
could  n't  bear  to  see  my  poor  dear  boy  strain  himself 
in  any  such  dreadful  way.  And  if  he  don't  get  l  on,' 
he  '11  be  so  blue  I  had  rather  not  be  with  him." 

"I  had/'  said  Trix.     "Jack  will  need  me,  in  any 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE  163 

event.  And  if  Jerry  knew  how  I  Ve  been  turning 
over  in  my  mind  every  respectable  way  of  getting  to 
New  London  for  that  day — oh,  he 's  a  perfect  dear  to 
have  thought  of  it !  " 

"  He  had  already  talked  of  it  to  me/'  went  on  Elea 
nor,  visibly  embarrassed,  "  and  I  was  planning  a  sur 
prise  for  Trix.  And  then,  it  appears,  Jerry  found  out 
that  Mr.  Van  Loon  considered  us  engaged  to  go  up 
for  the  Yale-Harvard  race  in  his  new  yacht,  the  Incog 
nita." 

"So  we  are  to  meet  you  there?"  exclaimed  Trix, 
beaming.  "  That 's  not  quite  so  good  as  going  with 
you,  dear,  but  still  — 

"No;  Mr.  Van  Loon  asks  Jerry  to — ask  mama, — 
he  wants  you  both  to  come  on  the  yacht, —  and  if 
mama  won't  go,  he  thought  you  would  be  satisfied  to 
be  chaperoned  by  me  — 

"  I  like  being  chaperoned  by  you/'  said  Betty,  to 
bridge  over  the  awkward  silence  and  the  effect  of 
Trix's  altered  face.  "  You  will  find  me  such  a  giddy 
little  thing ! " 

"I  am  awfully  sorry,"  Eleanor  went  on.  "I  said 
everything  I  could  to  Jerry ;  but  he  feels  bound, — you 
know  men  are  so  punctilious  about  engagements  with 
each  other — are  they  not,  mama?  He  says  he  really 
could  n't  consent  to  throw  over  Mr.  Van  Loon ;  and 
the  trip  is  a  short  one — we  need  n't  be  on  the  yacht 
more  than  three  days.  Mama,  tell  Betty  and  Trix 
whether  you  want  them  to  go  or  not,  and  we  '11  all 
abide  by  you." 

Poor  Mrs.  Halliday's  eye  at  that  moment  lighted 
upon  a  pigeonhole  in  her  desk  that  she  knew  to  be 


164  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

full  of  unpaid  bills.  The  talk  with  her  lawyer  had 
sent  her  home  with  a  driven  feeling.  The  big  house 
they  lived  in  could  not  be  maintained  upon  air.  If 
they  sold  it,  the  mortgage  would  absorb  all  but  enough 
of  the  purchase-money  to  give  her  a  pittance  of  addi 
tional  income.  By  the  necessity  for  keeping  appear 
ances  up  to  the  mark  of  gentility  in  New  York  of  the 
present  day,  she  had  to  acknowledge  herself  badly 
beaten.  And,  now,  by  shifting  her  gaze  she  could 
again  see  the  reassuring  spectacle  of  Eleanor's  carriage 
and  Eleanor's  servants  in  the  street.  Only  that  morn 
ing  she  had  made  some  excuse  to  old  Andrews  in  tell 
ing  him  that  he  must  leave  her  service. 

"  I  think  when  Jerry  and  Eleanor  are  so  much  put 
out  about  it,  you  had  better  make  no  difficulties,  girls," 
she  said  vaguely,  her  tongue  dry  in  her  mouth. 

"  You  will  go  ?  It  is  settled,"  said  Eleanor,  rather 
hurrying  the  thing.  "  I  shall  tell  Jerry.  It  will  please 
him  so  much,  you  can't  think.  I  shall  take  care  that 
the  whole  affair  is  made  pleasant;  I  believe  I  can 
promise  that — " 

"  Are  we  to  be  the  only  women  on  board  for  the 
race  ? "  asked  Betty,  Trix  remaining  obstinately  glum. 

"Oh,  I  think  so,  certainly,"  said  Eleanor.  "It  is 
my  party,  Jerry  says.  There  will  be  another  man  or 
two,  of  course.  But,  dear  me  !  it  is  nearly  a  quarter 
past,  and  I  'm  due  at  Fiftieth  street  at  half  past  one. 
Good-by,  and  come  to  me  soon  to  lunch  or  dinner. 
Good-by,  mammy  darling.  I  have  had  such  a  mean 
little  glimpse  of  you.  Oh,  I  must  n't  forget  to  tell  you 
it  is  settled  we  're  to  sail  about  the  middle  of  July." 

With  Eleanor,  Trix  also  vanished  from  the  room. 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  165 

"  Jerry  meant  Nell  to  bring  us  into  this/'  said  Betty 
to  her  mother.  "  That  is  the  reason  I  made  no  spoken 
objection.  I  should  n't  be  surprised  if  our  consent 
were  the  price  she  pays  for  getting  him  to  say  they 
will  positively  sail." 

"Jerry  is  an  only  son,  and  accustomed  to  domineer 
a  little  over  women.  I  can't  understand  why  he  has 
wavered  about  their  plans.  Nell  will  be  happier  trav 
eling  with  him,  and  it  has  always  been  intended  they 
should  spend  this  summer  in  England  and  Switzer 
land,  and  the  autumn  in  the  East,"  said  Mrs.  Halliday, 
dwelling  comfortably  upon  schemes  for  her  favorite 
child  that  involved  such  liberal  expense. 

"I  won't  tell  mama,"  thought  Betty,  "that  every 
body  says  Jerry  's  completely  in  the  toils  of  Hilde- 
garde  again,  and  that  is  the  reason  he  wants  to  make 
Timothy  secure  with  Trix." 

"  It 's  all  one  to  me,  mother,"  she  said,  with  a  whim 
sical  attempt  at  gaiety.  "But  this  much  you  must 
understand.  I  Ve  had  my  talk  with  Trix,  and  I  felt 
like  a  sneak-thief  all  the  time.  If  it  were  anybody 
but  that — Timothy  Van  Loon — 

"  Who  a  month  or  so  ago  was  ready  to  marry  an 
other  woman  if  she  would  throw  her  handkerchief  to 
him,  and  was  driven  off  the  field  by  Jerry's  occupation 
of  it,"  was  what  passed  through  her  mind — to  be  sup 
pressed. 

"  Every  one  says  Mr.  Van  Loon  is  a  devoted  son," 
ventured  poor  Mrs.  Halliday,  forlornly.  "And  our 
families  have  long  been  allied — since  his  great-grand- 
aunt  married  your  father's  great-uncle's  brother-in- 
law.  It  has  always  been  considered  a  safe  family," 
11* 


166  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

she  added  j  and  Betty,  wrung  with  sudden  pity,  bent 
down  and  kissed  her  mother's  brow. 

"As  if  any  one  were  satisfied  with  married  life — 
or  gets  exactly  what  she  wants !  "  she  meditated,  fur 
ther,  in  her  room.  "  If  I  had  even  a  medium-sized 
purse,  I  'd  begin  to  think  a  spinster's  lot  the  only 
'  happy  one.7 " 

ONE  beautiful  moonlight  night  in  the  end  of  June 
saw  Mr.  Van  Loon's  much  paragraphed  new  yacht, 
the  Incognita,  steal  away  from  her  moorings  near  the 
foot  of  -  -  street  on  the  East  River,  and  glide  in  a 
ghostly  manner  out  into  the  Sound.  On  her  deck 
was  a  small,  not  particularly  well  assorted  party  of 
guests,  consisting  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gerald  Vernon, 
Betty  and  Beatrix  Halliday,  a  couple  of  club-men, 
hangers-on  of  Timothy,  a  new  Swedish  attache  in  pro 
cess  of  illumination  about  the  States,  and  the  owner 
of  the  boat.  Down  in  the  women's  cabins,  with  their 
wondrous  modern  upholstery  and  brass  beds,  Elsa  was 
engaged  in  laying  out  her  ladies'  belongings  for  the 
night,  as  if  it  were  some  country-house  at  which  they 
had  arrived  for  a  three-days'  visit. 

Van  Loon,  in  naval  blue,  and  with  gold-laced  cap, 
treading  his  own  deck  by  moonlight,  Betty  decided  to 
be  Van  Loon  at  his  best.  He  did  not  obtrude  his  at 
tentions  upon  Trix,  and  yet  somehow  she,  and  every 
one  else,  was  made  to  feel  that  this  floating  fairy 
palace  under  the  snowy  sails  was  waiting  that  lucky 
young  woman's  nod  to  dip  its  colors  into  her  keeping. 
"  Oh,  if  it  were  always  moonlight  on  a  yacht,  and  Tim 
othy  were  always  thus  subdued ! "  Betty  wanted  to 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  167 

whisper  in  her  sister's  ear,  yet  dared  not.  The  next 
day  found  them  at  anchor  off  the  far-famed  hostelry 
known  as  the  Pequot  House,  near  the  staid  old  town 
of  New  London,  where  on  the  morrow  the  annual  race 
between  Yale  and  Harvard  was  to  be  won  and  lost. 
Electing  to  go  ashore,  the  ladies  found  themselves  at 
once  in  the  merry  turmoil  of  Regatta  week.  The  halls 
and  verandas  of  the  hotel  were  thronged  with  bril 
liantly  dressed  women  —  mothers,  sisters,  sweethearts, 
and  general  admirers  of  the  rival  crews.  Collegians 
from  both  universities  swarmed  in  attendance  on  their 
fair,  but  the  handsome  young  Harvard  men  seemed  to 
predominate  in  numbers. 

Trix,  upon  landing,  began  to  look  about  her  for 
somebody  to  whom  she  might  confide  her  growing 
emotions  about  the  question  of  the  hour.  To  be  so 
near  her  brother  Jack,- — now,  without  dispute,  exalted 
to  be  an  actual  member  of  the  great  Yale  crew,  and 
about,  for  the  honor  of  his  university,  to  row  at  Num 
ber  2, — and  to  hold  no  intercourse  with  him,  not  even 
to  hear  how  he  was  passing  these  last  trying  days  in 
that  mysterious  stronghold  up  yonder  at  Gale's  Ferry, 
tantalized  her  cruelly.  It  was  absolutely  of  no  use, 
the  girl  had  made  up  her  mind,  to  expect  the  right 
sort  of  sympathy  aboard  the  yacht.  Jerry  and  Van 
Loon  were  Harvard  graduates ;  Nell  basely  took  sides 
with  her  husband ;  Betty  made  fun  of  everything ;  the 
other  men  aboard  had  no  bias  either  way.  Among 
the  numbers  of  people  encountered  at  the  Pequot,  it 
was  her  ill  fortune  to  know  only  those  who  claimed 
Van  Loon  and  Nell  and  Jerry  as  sympathizers  with 
the  crimson. 


168  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

It  was,  therefore,  with  a  throb  of  keen  joy  that  she 
beheld  Mr.  Brock  Vyvan,  with  a  knot  of  dark-blue 
ribbon  in  the  buttonhole  of  his  neat  tweed  coat,  and  a 
band  of  dark-blue  ribbon  around  his  straw  hat,  walk 
ing  up  and  down  the  veranda  in  attendance  upon  a 
mother  and  daughter,  the  latter  vivacious  and  pretty 
enough  to  give  Trix  a  sober  second  thought.  Her  first 
impulse  was  to  thrust  herself  upon  young  Vyvan's 
attention,  to  lean  forward,  to  fix  him  with  a  bow  and 
smile  that  should  be  followed  up  at  his  earliest  con 
venience  by  his  adjournment  to  her  side.  The  next 
moment  Trix  drew  back,  and  hid  herself  behind  her 
sister  Nell,  in  a  blaze  of  color  at  her  own  indiscretion. 
Mr.  Vyvan  had  indeed  seen  her,  had  bowed  with  the 
rather  pronounced  courtesy  of  the  Southerner — but 
he  had  not  smiled.  Trix  fancied  he  did  not  want  to 
avail  himself  of  her  implied  permission.  What — oh, 
dreadful  thought! — if  he  wanted  to  rebuke  her  for 
wardness  ? 

The  gala-day  was  darkened  after  that.  The  Van 
Loon  party,  observed  of  all,  passed  up  and  down  the 
promenade  j  the  ladies  had  taken  their  cups  of  tea,  and 
were  about  to  return  aboard,  when  Trix  fell  in  with 
a  young  woman  she  had  known  casually  in  town,  and 
had  ignored  hitherto — a  plain  girl,  with  no  especial 
points  to  praise  or  to  decry.  At  this  juncture,  if  she 
had  had,  in  girls'  language,  "  every  hair  of  her  head 
strung  with  diamonds,"  Trix  could  not  have  valued 
the  plain  girl  more.  For  she  wore  a  tarpaulin  hat 
with  a  broad  blue  band,  and  five  minutes'  conversa 
tion  developed  the  fact  that  she  owned  a  cousin  on 
the  crew.  Eager  as  Trix  was  to  ask  was  she  to  an- 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  169- 

swer.  The  very  latest  news  from  Gale's  Ferry  was 
hers,  thanks  to  an  undergraduate  brother,  who  had 
brought  word  that  their  men  were  as  "  fit  as  fiddles  " 
and  "  regularly  smooth." 

"  Thank  Heaven  !  "  Trix  said,  kissing  the  plain  girl 
fervently.  In  the  relief  of  the  moment  she  almost 
forgot  Mr.  Brock  Vyvan.  "  You  see,  I  don't  know  a 
single  Yale  person  here  to  ask/'  she  explained. 

u  There  are  plenty,  and  the  very  nicest,"  answered 
the  plain  girl,  bridling.  To  which  Trix  answered: 
"  Oh,  of  course  !  I  shall  know  thousands  of  them  to 
morrow,"  and  kissed  her  new-old  friend  again. 

When  they  walked  down  to  ^the  wharf  to  get  into 
the  yacht's  boat,  she  ahead  with  Timothy,  Beatrix 
again  saw  Mr.  Brock  Vyvan — a  back  view  only.  He 
had  parted  company  with  the  pretty  girl  and  her 
mama,  and  was  striding  away  as  if  shod  with  seven- 
league  boots.  She  did  not  see  him  turn,  after  their 
own  little  party  was  embarked,  and  gaze  over  at  the 
Incognita,  lying  at  anchor  and  flying  under  her  official 
colors  a  crimson  flag. 

"  Blank  him !  I  should  like  to  strangle  him,"  mur 
mured  this  peaceful  young  Vyvan. 

Gerald,  after  dining  on  the  yacht,  went  ashore  for 
the  dance,  as  did  the  other  men,  the  women  preferring 
to  save  themselves  for  the  excitement  of  the  morrow. 
But  they  were  not  without  a  visitor.  A  small  boat, 
coming  alongside,  sent  up  a  dapper  youth,  who  pre 
sented  himself,  following  his  card,  as  a  reporter  for  a 
New  York  daily  newspaper. 

"  I  will  not  intrude  on  you,  ladies,  for  more  than  a 
moment,"  he  said  in  a  businesslike  manner.  "  I  merely 


170  SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF   TUNE 

wanted  to  ask  if  Mrs.  Gerald  Vernon,  as  an  exponent 
of  the  Four  Hundred  of  New  York,  would  object  to 
giving  'The  Planet7  her  opinion  of  the  Bob  Cook 
stroke." 

"My  opinion?"  gasped  Eleanor,  fairly  astonished. 
"  Why,  I  have  n't  any.  And  if  I  had,  what  possible 
value  or  interest  could  it  have  to  the  editor  or  readers 
of  'The  Planet7?" 

"  It  is  a  special  thing,  gotten-up  for  the  issue  of  our 
paper  that  announces  the  result  of  the  race,77  he  said, 
unabashed.  "  We  think  ladies  should  have  a  voice  in 
every  question,  nowadays,  and  I  have  quite  a  list  of 
society  leaders  known  to  be  visiting  New  London  to 
interview.77 

"  You  must  excuse  me,77  said  Eleanor,  and,  bowing 
and  smiling,  the  dapper  man,  who  had  no  time  to 
lose,  took  himself  away  to  glean  in  more  remunerative 
fields. 

AND  now  the  day  has  dawned  that  is  to  crown  and 
quench  so  many  hopes  on  the  New  World  Thames. 
Bright  and  early  the  yacht,  flying  every  pennant  and 
oriflamme  on  board,  waits  orders  to  push  ahead  to 
follow  the  race,  to  be  rowed  at  eleven,  down-stream. 
A  smart  little  breeze  is  blowing,  and  the  choppy  sea 
causes  the  yacht's  boat,  returning  from  the  hotel,  to 
dance  up  and  down  merrily,  to  the  excitement  of  her 
cargo  of  womenkind. 

For,  to  the  strong  disgust  of  Eleanor  and  Betty, — 
Trix  just  now  is  above  details, — Gerald  has  announced 
to  them  that  Mr.  Van  Loon,  having  met  Major  and 
Mrs.  Shafto  and  their  party  at  the  Pequot  dance,  could 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  171 

not  get  out  of  inviting  them  to  pass  the  day  on  the 
Incognita  to  see  the  race.  Who  makes  up  the  party, 
Eleanor  does  not  ask,  or  Jerry  say.  All  too  soon  there 
arrive  Miss  Kitty  Foote,  the  vague  young  Foote  her 
brother,  Mr.  Carteret  Leeds,  and — Mrs.  de  Lancey  ! 

"And  I  shall  expect  you  to  be  civil  to  these  women," 
ends  Jerry,  remonstrating  against  his  wife's  too  plain 
distaste.  "I  don't  want  your  offish  ways  with  them, 
any  more  than  Betty's  infernal  spitefulness." 

"  But,  Jerry,  you  gave  us  no  idea — 

"  Who  had  an  idea? "  he  answered,  his  face  flushing. 
"  Nell,  if  I  were  you,  I  should  try  to  bear  in  mind  that, 
however  much  he  loves  his  wife,  no  man  can  stand 
petty  jealousies  and  heavenly  superiority.  No  man,  I 
say." 

"I  make  neither  charge  nor  assumption,"  Nell  re 
plied,  fronting  him  haughtily. 

"  Oh  !  I  know  what  a  jealous  woman  is.  Suppose  I 
were  such  a  goose  about  Theobald  ? " 

"  Theobald  f "  she  repeated  faintly. 

"  Yes.  Do  you  imagine  people  have  n't  tried  to  put 
it  into  my  head  that  he  's  still  in  love  with  you  ?  Now, 
I  've  no  time  to  say  more,  for  here  they  are  j  but  mind 
what  I  have  said." 

"  O  Gerald !  "  her  pale  lips  syllabled.  The  next  mo 
ment  this  bit  of  tragedy  of  every  day  is  crushed  out 
of  sight ;  the  young  couple  are  advancing  from  where 
they  had  walked  aside  for  a  brief  conjugal  talk,  and  are 
greeting  the  newcomers  as  if  nothing  had  occurred. 

OVER  the  course  steams  the  little  white  launch  Yale, 
bearing  the  referee  with  the  unwelcome  tidings  that 


172  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

because  the  water  is  so  rough  the  race  has  been  post 
poned  till  six  p.  M.,  and  is  to  be  rowed  up-stream  in 
stead  of  down.  While  the  party  on  the  Incognita,  and 
other  pleasure  crafts  lying  around  them  in  the  stream 
below  the  Shore  Line  Bridge,  solace  themselves  with 
luncheon  and  the  popping  of  champagne-corks,  steam 
boats,  tugs,  sloops,  every  variety  of  water- vehicle,  go 
hither  and  thither  in  vexed  confusion. 

Trix,  who  has  nerved  herself  with  real  heroism  to 
bear  the  delay,  makes  an  excuse  to  leave  the  cabin, 
and  goes  again  on  deck.  With  her  blue  silk  shirt 
belted  around  her  slim,  maidenly  waist,  her  close-fit 
ting  blue  serge  skirt,  her  white  straw  sailor-hat  with 
the  blue  band  and  bit  of  white  tulle  tied  across  her 
bright  eyes  and  blooming  cheeks,  she  presents  a  cap 
tivating  image  of  fidelity  to  Yale.  In  vain  had  Tim 
othy  tempted  her  with  a  bunch  of  Jacqueminot  roses 
supplied  by  his  steward  from  the  unromantic  ice-box. 
She  had  almost  stamped  her  foot  at  him  as  she  waved 
the  insidious  crimson  beauties  off.  Oh,  for  one  who 
has  the  impulse  and  the  thought  to  give  her  a  little 
posy  of  Yale  bleuets  to  wear  on  her  loyal  breast !  But 
there  is  none,  not  one  in  that  band  of  jesting  folk 
around  the  long  cabin-table  a-glitter  with  glass  and 
silver,  to  understand  the  yearning  of  her  heart !  As 
she  walks  out  toward  the  railing,  and  strains  her  eyes 
in  the  direction  of  the  crew's  quarters,  and  longs  to 
have  speech  with  Jack,  dear,  eager  Jack,  who  must  be 
suffering  so  cruelly  with  the  delay,  a  step  is  heard  be 
hind  her,  and  she  turns  to  confront  little  Mr.  Foote, 
exquisite  in  a  costume  invented  for  the  day. 


SWEET   BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  173 

u  I  'm  going  ashaw  for  an  hour/'  he  said.  UA  little 
business  at  the  Crockaw  House." 

A  drowning  man  in  his  extremity  is  said  to  clutch 
at  a  straw,  and  into  Trix's  wilful  head  pops  the  idea 
of  utilizing  Mr.  Foote. 

"  Would  it  trouble  you  very  much  to  drop  me  at  a 
friend's  house  in  the  town?"  she  asked,  oh,  so  sweet 
ly! —  "and  to  pick  me  up  on  your  way  back  to  the 
yacht?" 

"  Delighted,  I  'm  shaw,"  said  the  flattered  youth, 
never  doubting  that  her  plan  was  prearranged. 

Trix  pencils  a  note  to  her  sisters,  and  without  de 
lay  descends  into  the  boat  in  waiting  to  take  off 
Mr.  Foote.  She  has  a  delicious  sense  of  escape  from 
bondage,  a  childish  tremor  lest  she  be  overtaken  and 
called  back.  It  is  her  purpose  to  repair  to  the  home  of 
a  certain  kindly  matron,  an  old  friend  of  her  mother's, 
who  is  sure  to  have  a  houseful  of  wearers  of  the  blue, 
and  in  a  half -hour's  chat  relieve  herself  of  some  of  the 
pent-up  emotion  of  the  day.  Nell  and  Betty  certainly 
can't  take  her  to  task  for  the  civility  of  a  call  on  Mrs. 
Mordant,  who  had  invited  her  for  the  whole  Regatta 
week. 


XII 


OING  ashore,  Trix  and  her  trim  little 
escort  crossed  the  railway-track,  and 
were  at  once  in  a  cloud  of  blue  jack 
ets,  coaches,  and  old  Yale  oarsmen 
who  had  come  down  to  town  to  get 
the  latest  quotation  of  the  betting, 
and,  by  a  dip  into  that  excitement,  strive  to  escape  the 
awful  hush  that  hung  over  the  quarters  of  the  crew. 
In  the  confusion,  Trix  saw  Vyvan  chatting  with  a  Go 
liath  in  flannels  on  the  sidewalk  just  ahead,  and  the 
hats  of  both  men  flew  off  as  she  came  abreast  of  them. 
Something  in  the  atmosphere  of  common  sympathy 
made  her  ignore  her  fears  of  the  day  before.  She 
cast  upon  Vyvan  a  smile  so  kind,  so  frank,  so  fearless, 
that  the  young  man's  resolution  melted  in  thinnest  air. 
"Miss  Halliday,"  he  said,  joining  her,  "may  I  tell 
you  that  I  Ve  just  heard  from  the  highest  authority 
that  your  brother  and  our  other  men  are  bearing  up 
finely,  and  we  need  n't  be  afraid  of  the  strain  upon 
their  nerves?" 

The  delight  in  her  face  gave  him  no  hint  to  be  off, 
and  during  their  walk  up  the  main  street  of  the  dis 
tractedly  gay  town  little  Mr.  Foote  was  left  to  solace 
himself  by  gazing  at  the  display  of  racing  haberdash- 

174 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  175 

ery  in  the  shop-windows  on  each  side  of  the  way.  It 
was  slow  progress  amid  the  joyous,  expectant  throngs, 
every  step  impeded  by  gangs  of  college  oarsmen  and 
their  followers.  The  heroes  of  the  crews  who  had 
already  that  week  strutted  their  brief  hour  upon  the 
stage, —  of  the  universities  of  Pennsylvania,  Cornell, 
and  Columbia, — victors  and  vanquished,  were  side  by 
side.  Freshmen,  Sophomores,  Juniors,  Seniors  met 
for  once  011  an  even  plane  of  sympathy,  together  with 
many  a  grizzled  graduate  who  had  left  his  business 
and  the  cares  of  middle  life  in  town,  and  from  his 
class-reunion  in  Cambridge  or  New  Haven  harked 
back  to  New  London  to  the  glories  of  his  youth,  as 
gaily  as  the  youngest.  The  women  folk  appertaining 
to  all  these  enthusiasts  laughed,  chatted,  and  scram 
bled  in  the  universal  crush.  Most  of  them  had  been 
skirmishing  for  luncheon  in  a  town  taken  by  surprise, 
but  there  were  few  complaints  of  discomfort  or  scanty 
rations. 

"Oh!  is  n't  it  grand?"  Trix  said.  "And  to  think 
how  I  was  wasting  time  in  that  horrid  yacht  in  just 
being  swell !  " 

They  had  come  to  the  Crocker  House,  the  headquar 
ters  of  betting  on  the  race.  Here  she  saw  Mr.  Foote 
cast  an  anxious  glance  after  a  band  of  callow  young 
sters  like  himself  pressing  in  to  give  and  take  odds, 
on  lines  strictly  partizan,  under  the  persuasions  of 
gamblers  of  more  experience.  In  imagination  little 
Foote  was  already  stretching  out  his  hand  to  receive 
from  the  depositing  office  of  the  hotel  an  envelop  fat 
with  winnings,  after  a  victory  by  Harvard. 

"  If  you  are  in  a  hurry,  Mr.  Foote,"  said  the  insidi- 


176  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

ous  Beatrix,  "  I  would  n't  keep  you  from  your  busi 
ness,  for  the  world.  I  think  Mr.  Vyvan  won't  mind 
taking  me  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Mrs.  Mordant's ;  and 
you  might  call  there  for  me  when  you  are  ready  to  go 
back." 

Foote  was  off  in  a  flash. 

"I  hope  he  has  laid  in  his  full  stock  of .  summer 
trousers/'  Vyvan  observed.  "  Else  1 7m  afraid  there 
will  be  not  much  left  to  pay  his  tailor's  bill,  to-night." 

"  Then  you  think  we  '11  win  ? "  Trix  cried,  thrilling. 

"What  sort  of  Yale  man  would  I  be  if  I  did  not?" 
he  answered. 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !  How  I  love  to  hear  you  talk  !  "  she 
said,  with  reckless  enthusiasm.  "  When  I  think  that 
I  'm  doomed  to  watch  the  race  through  a  telescope 
from  the  deck  of  that  old  yacht,  where  about  every 
soul  will  be  for  the  other  side,  and  that  Jack,  my  own 
boy,  who  's  shared  every  thought  I  Ve  had  for  years, 
will  be  straining  his  heart  out  to  win  for  Yale,  how 
can  I  bear  it? — that 's  what  I  ?d  like  to  know." 

"You  sha'n't,  if  I  can  help  it,"  he  said  rapidly. 
"  See  here,  Miss  Halliday.  I  don't  know  what  New 
York  girls  think  about  such  things,  but  with  us  they 
are  done  every  day.  Come  off  with  me,  and  see  the 
race  from  the  observation-train.  I  have  one  ticket, 
and  I  '11  get  another — and  you  can  send  a  message 
back  to  your  sisters,  if  you  like." 

Trix's  heart  swelled  with  pure  pleasure.  She  looked 
up  to  his  face,  and  the  bright  tears  in  her  eyes  were 
contradicted  by  the  smile  on  her  rosy  lips. 

"  I  'd  go  with  you  just  as  I  'd  go  with  Jack,"  she  said. 

He  left  her  with  Mrs.  Mordant,  while  he  went  to 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  177 

send  her  billet  to  the  yacht,  and — a  more  formidable 
matter — to  change  his  single  place  in  the  observation- 
train  for  two  in  one  of  its  canopied  cars,  arranged, 
with  ascending  tiers  of  seats,  to  run  by  the  river-side 
and  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  day.  Falling  in  with 
a  speculator  who  held  elastic  views  of  his  possibilities 
in  the  matter  of  pay,  Vyvan  at  last  secured  his  prize, 
hastening  away  with  a  pocket  as  light  as  his  heart — 
which  did  not  prevent  him  from  further  investing,  at 
an  exorbitant  rate  of  charge,  in  a  bunch  of  the  blue 
blossoms  Trix  loved,  just  arrived  from  New  York  in 
the  oil-skin  box  of  a  florist. 

"  She  'd  tread  on  these  if  the  old  grandfather  had 
her  at  Mount  St.  Dunstan,"  he  pleased  himself  by  fan 
cying.  "  Well,  I  '11  have  to  borrow,  or  foot  it,  to  get 
back  to  New  York  to-night,  and  I  '11  be  hanged  if  I 
care  which.'* 

Long  before  the  hour  for  the  race,  every  seat  in  the 
observation-train  was  packed.  Each  car  was  a  par 
terre  of  youth  and  beauty  and  bursting  championship, 
crimson  and  blue  sharing  the  space  equally.  Trix 
and  her  comrade,  ignoring  interruptions,  talked  to 
each  other  exclusively.  By  the  best  luck  in  the  world, 
Mrs.  Mordant  and  her  party  had  also  places  in  the  car 
with  Trix,  and,  with  this  triumphant  assurance  of 
security  against  criticism  of  the  girl's  stroke  for  inde 
pendence,  the  young  people  abandoned  themselves  to 
enjoyment  without  alloy.  But  when,  from  the  deafen 
ing  tumult  of  the  railway  platform,  the  train  finally 
moved  off  amid  a  blare  of  tin  horns  and  rousing 
cheers,  and  they  realized  that  the  fateful  hour  was 
near,  she  grew  a  trifle  pale. 
12 


178  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"Courage,"  said  Brock.  "For  Jack  and  Yale,  re 
member." 

"  For  Yale  and  Jack,"  said  the  girl,  a  big  hysteric 
lump  coming  into  her  throat. 

AND  how  fares  it  meanwhile  with  the  brother  Jack, 
for  whom  at  least  one  heart  in  the  vast  multitude  is 
beating  as  it  never  beat  before?  Let  us  leave  the 
outsider's  share  of  experience,  which  any  one  may 
have  for  the  seeking — the  sight  of  the  river  and  its 
banks  black  with  people ;  the  thousands  of  craft  an 
chored  or  swarming  to  the  course  5  the  blaze  of  color ; 
the  sound  of  incessant  cheering  j  the  strain  of  expect 
ancy.  Until  the  frantic  moment  of  the  start,  let  us 
have  a  glimpse  at  the  crew  itself.  It  may  be  that  to 
look  at  a  university  boat-race  from  within  the  shell 
will  give  us  a  better  understanding  of  what  the  achieve 
ment  means  to  those  who  put  their  manhood  into  it. 

During  the  last  day  or  two  before  the  contest,  Jack 
has  felt  himself  gradually  inflating  with  strange  ex 
citement.  He  is  no  novice,  and  has  rowed  several 
good  races  at  school,  but  they  seem  to  him  now  to 
rate  no  higher  than  the  mimic  affairs  in  which  he  and 
Trix,  in  childhood,  had  watched  their  rival  shingles 
vanish  down  the  stream. 

To  be,  in  Freshman  year,  a  member  of  the  univer 
sity  crew,  entitled  to  flaunt  upon  the  breast  of  his  shirt 
the  coveted  Y  before  envying  classmates,  has  steeled 
the  boy  against  hardship.  He  has  borne  cheerily  the 
fortnight's  ordeal  in  the  white  farm-house  on  the  bluff 
above  the  Thames ;  the  hard  work  in  scorching  suns, 
and  long  pulls  on  time,  at  dusk,  over  the  storied  battle- 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  179 

ground  of  the  eights,  and  even  the  exasperating  sar 
casms  of  the  great  coach. 

While  older  oarsmen  have  been  grumbling  at  the 
monotonous  diet  of  half -raw  beef  and  eggs,  varying 
roast  chicken  and  oatmeal  porridge,  that  has  worn 
them  down  into  so  many  healthy  skeletons;  while 
amcebean  strains  have  arisen,  hymning  the  rival 
charms  of  certain  good  black  brier  pipes,  widowed 
since  Christmas — Jack  has  exulted  in  pure  animal 
spirits.  He  has  nearly  burst  with  pride  on  taking  his 
place  in  the  line  of  blue-aiid-black  blazers,  headed  by 
the  river-god  himself,  who  march  solemnly  up  to  the 
quaint  little  house  with  broad  eaves  that  flies  the  great 
crimson  standard,  to  exchange  solemn  hand-shakes 
with  the  Harvard  crew  and  its  supporters. 

Many  of  the  red  men  Jack  knows,  and  likes  heart 
ily.  Several  of  them  have  been  his  predecessors  in  the 
boats  at  St.  Peter's,  but  there  is  a  strange  constraint 
in  their  meeting  here.  He  notes,  with  jealous  zeal, 
what  a  fine-looking,  fair-skinned  set  of  thoroughbred 
stalwarts  they  are,  oddly  differing  in  exterior  from  the 
Yale  greyhounds,  and,  in  his  heart,  owns  them  worthy 
foemen.  The  two  crews  outdo  each  other  in  polite 
ceremonial.  They  ignore  the  recent  spying  with  tele 
scopes  upon  each  other's  movements  in  practice  half- 
miles  close  in  to  the  bank — and  the  gloom  spread  by 
reports  brought  back  from  his  ambush  in  a  single 
shell  by  a  substitute  clad  becomingly  in  cotton  tights 
with  a  stop-watch  swung  around  his  neck. 

But  now  has  come  the  day  of  reckoning.  Jack  has 
dreamed  through  the  fever  of  the  morning's  wait,  lying 
flat  on  his  back  in  a  darkened  room,  burning  with 


180  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

thirst,  and  trying  to  heed  a  rough  command  to  stir 
neither  hand  nor  foot,  his  brain  a  kaleidoscope  the 
while.  They  have  been  put  on  the  water  for  half  an 
hour,  to  make  a  final  test  of  stretchers  and  new  oars 
— the  rigging  a  mathematical  ex-captain  and  a  skilful 
boat-builder  have  spent  days  in  bringing  to  perfec 
tion  ;  and  after  it  have  been  sent  inside,  and  bidden 
to  rest.  A  hush  as  of  a  sick-chamber  has  hung  over 
the  place,  until  broken  by  the  ruthless  chatter  of  a 
party  of  girls,  conducted  by  a  non-boating  graduate, 
to  see  the  quarters  of  the  crew.  The  men,  prone  in 
side,  have  listened  sardonically  to  the  little  cries  and 
chatter  of  these  young  women  crowding  in  a  tent 
upon  the  lawn,  asking  endless  questions  of  the  crew's 
interpreter,  the  flaxen-haired,  gruff-voiced  coxswain, 
who  in  his  small  person  carries  the  dignity  of  the 
eight.  Jack  is  just  dropping  off  into  a  nap,  when  the 
quick  summons  of  the  coach  is  heard  at  the  bottom  of 
the  stairs. 

"  Come,  get  up,  you  fellows !  We  're  off  in  ten 
minutes.  I  've  a  word  to  say  to  you." 

The  lad's  heart  gives  a  bound,  then  seems  to  stand 
quite  still.  He  is  half  dazed  when  they  all  meet  below 
for  a  last  injunction  from  the  familiar  voice. 

"  Of  course  I  think  you  'II  win  !  You  don't  suppose 
I  'd  have  wasted  my  time  here  with  you  if  I  did  n't. 
They  '11  probably  lead  you  the  first  half-mile ;  they 
always  do,  those  red  chaps ;  but — "  here  an  expressive 
epithet — "you  must  go  by  them  after  that !  Stroke, 
start  her  at  thirty-six,  and  keep  it  up  till  you  're  ahead 
if  you  die  for  it.  You  youngsters," — casting  about 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  181 

for  a  tremendous  peroration, —  "  well,  remember  I'm 
looking  at  you  !  " 

"  Of  course  I  think  you  '11  win ! "  Like  wine  to 
the  weary  are  these  words  from  him  who  has  always 
chided  heretofore. 

Embarked  at  last  from  the  little  floating  stage  near 
the  start,  one  after  another  takes  his  place  at  the  quiet 
word  of  the  captain.  In  dead  silence,  every  man  shuts 
his  teeth,  and  falls  to  thinking.  Jack  envies  the  phleg 
matic  country-bred  fellow  rowing  at  bow,  who  after 
ward  avowed  that  he  thought  of  nothing  at  all,  and 
who  is  the  best-conditioned  of  the  lot. 

With  eyes  strictly  in  the  boat,  unconscious  of  the 
thousands  who  gaze  eagerly  upon  them,  they  paddle 
about  for  a  few  minutes,  becoming  gradually  aware  of 
their  surroundings.  Jack  sees  the  flotilla  of  dainty, 
graceful  yachts,  and  gives  a  thought  to  Trix,  whom 
he  believes  to  be  aboard  one  of  them.  The  long  multi 
colored  observation-train  lying  off  at  a  distance  like 
a  gaudy  serpent  he  never  thinks  of  as  harboring  his 
sister.  He  sees  an  enormous  Sound  steamer  careen 
to  one  side  with  the  weight  of  crowding  passengers — 
the  throngs  of  smaller  fry,  row-boats  and  launches, 
dogging  their  way. 

And  then  a  warning  whistle  from  the  referee's  boat, 
as  the  busy  little  craft  scurries  to  clear  the  course. 
Jack  feels  himself  obeying  the  coxswain's  order  to 
straighten  the  boat  out  at  the  line. 

Scarce  a  boat's-length  to  the  starboard  of  them  sit 
their  rivals,  engaged  in  stripping  the  jerseys  from 
great  muscles  and  mighty  beef.  At  this  spectacle  the 
12* 


182  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

young  oarsman  has  a  moment's  sickly  misgiving  as  to 
results.  But  he  looks  ahead  of  him,  down  the  line  of 
sunburned  shoulders  and  lean,  lithe  bodies,  and  re 
members  that  here  are  stanch  veterans  of  hard-fought 
fights  at  school  and  college — heroes  whose  voices  have 
rung  out  over  the  mud  of  foot-ball  fields,  and  on  the 
fatal  third  mile  of  many  a  tough  four-mile  pull  in 
rough  water.  And  he  is  comforted. 

Another  whistle  from  the  launch.  Jack's  brain  is 
void. 

"  Oars  buried,"  almost  whispers  the  cox. 

Jack  strains  forward,  and  knows  that  the  launch  is 
bearing  close  to  them  with  a  strange  face  in  the  bow. 
There  is  a  deathly  hush. 

"  Gentlemen,  are  you  ready  ? "  asks  the  referee. 

A  pause  that  seems  minutes. 

"  Go  !  "     And  they  are  off. 

In  the  blank  fear  that  he  will  do  something  wrong, 
our  youngster  watches  like  a  lynx  the  shoulders, 
swinging  back  with  mighty  power  at  every  stroke,  of 
the  man  ahead  of  him — that  ere  while  listless  creature 
who  has  been  complaining  of  hard  work,  and  watch 
him  now! 

Mingling  with  the  voice  of  the  cox  in  his  ears  Jack 
hears  the  swash  of  the  other  crew  alongside,  a  bit 
ahead,  and  the  rage  of  battle  comes  into  his  soul. 

''Why  don't  they  quicken  the  stroke?"  he  thinks, 
in  his  intemperate  youth.  "  Oh  !  why  don't  we  shake 
'em  off  ?  Can  we  never  pass  those  red  chaps  ? " 

There  is  Number  2  in  the  other  boat.  Jack  yearns 
to  see  him  in  the  rear,  and  wants  to  do  more  than  his 
own  share  to  bring  this  about.  For  the  rest,  he  feels 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  183 

blind  and  deaf,  his  brain  opening  and  shutting  in 
agony,  his  oar  red-hot  in  his  grasp.  The  stroke  does 
quicken  a  point  here,  and  the  cox  calls  for  an  effort  to 
goby. 

The  boat  bounds  under  them,  and  the  crew  know 
the  wild  joy  a  sailor  feels  in  danger  from  a  squall,  or 
a  horseman  on  the  rise  of  a  high  jump.  They  are 
rowing  finely,  their  action  magnificent,  the  stroke  full, 
clear,  and  vigorous,  a  credit  to  the  coach — "like  a 
piece  of  well-oiled  machinery,'7  the  reporters  will  write 
to-night. 

Jack  feels  his  muscles  at  work  once  more.  Sud 
denly,  above  the  shouting  of  the  captains,  and  the 
swash  of  oars,  he  hears  arise  a  cry — the  war-cry  of 
old  Ironsides  at  Number  5.  All  the  Yale  boatmen 
know  that  cry.  It  is  like  the  view-halloo  of  Drysdale 
in  "Tom  Brown,"  the  dear  old  story-book  that  first 
made  Jack  a  captive  to  the  oar. 

Now  is  the  sweat  of  battle  sweet  in  the  mouth,  and 
the  ding-dong,  hammer-and-tongs  work  has  begun. 
Inch  by  inch  they  are  gaining,  and  out  of  the  corner 
of  the  eye  the  lad  again  sees  Number  2  in  the  other 
boat.  This  time  he  is  opposite  old  Ironsides ! 

The  mile  is  past,  and  with  the  stroke's  steady 
"  Catch  !  "  "  Catch  !  "  Jack  knows,  if  nothing  happens, 
they  have  won.  He  feels  a  pang  of  sympathy  for  that 
gallant  other  Number  2.  Cheers  ring  out  from  the 
distant  observation-train,  cheers  of  "  Yale  !  "  "  Yale  !  " 
and  Jack  again  thinks  of  his  proud  little  sister  Trix. 

"  Bp£X£xex!£  xo«£  xod^"  comes  in  heavy  unison  from  a 
steamboat.  It  is  the  chorus  of  Aristophanes's  frogs 
adapted  into  a  college  war-song. 


184  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

They  have  passed  the  navy-yard.  His  mouth  is  as 
dry  as  a  kiln,  but  he  is  not  exhausted.  Hard  rows 
and  hot  home  minutes  by  the  old  Long  Wharf  in  New 
Haven  have  seasoned  him  against  that.  He  begins  to 
think  of  the  record.  Can  they  touch  it  ?  The  third- 
mile  flag  flashes  by.  The  Harvard  crew  is  a  full  two 
lengths  in  the  rear,  now,  and  the  coxswain's  note  is  a 
crow  of  victory.  A  cry  is  raised  for  a  spurt  at  the 
finish.  They  are  close  in  shore,  out  of  the  current. 
Wild  shouts  of  joy  come  from  Yale  lungs  on  the  train, 
its  blue  cars  now  plainly  distinguishable,  close  at  hand. 
And  in  the  soothing  dusk,  shadows  lengthening  over 
the  Groton  shore,  the  Yale  boat  shoots  across  the  line 
—  victorious ! 

NEVER  will  Jack  forget  the  mad  rush  of  under 
graduates  tearing  down  from  the  still-moving  train  to 
heap  congratulations  on  the  eight,  who  sit  as  steady 
as  posts,  grinning  comfortably,  an  oar's-length  from 
the  shore. 

The  Harvard  boat  is  in,  three  lengths  behind.  One 
of  their  men  has  dropped  over  his  oar,  but  is  quickly 
brought  to  by  a  dash  of  water  in  the  face.  Their  shell 
has  been  paddled  out  and  across  the  river  to  the  still 
quarters,  where  they  will  nurse  their  gloom,  and  dream 
of  revenge  next  year. 

There  is  no  worthy  partizan  who  cannot  feel  with  a 
beaten  crew,  least  of  all  the  open-hearted  fellows  who 
have  borne  the  burden,  not  of  a  day,  but  of  six-months' 
labor  and  privation  to  show  that  they  are  men.  The 
bulldog  tenacity  of  that  hard  stern-chase  has  wrung 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT    OF    TUNE  185 

admiration  for  Harvard  from  the  victors.  "  Ter  qua- 
terque  ave,  vincti,"  hear  them  cry. 

Trix  could  not  see  for  happy  tears ;  but  Brock,  hold 
ing  her  hot  little  hand  tight-clasped  in  his,  told  her 
that  all  was  well.  He  could  distinguish  Number  2 
sitting  straight,  and  no  doubt  as  proud  as  Punch.  The 
Yale  boat  will  go  back  to  its  quarters,  and  the  men 
repair  to  New  Haven  for  such  a  night  of  such  hero- 
worship  as  it  will  stir  their  blood  to  remember  while 
blood  runs  in  their  veins.  There  is  no  chance  for  her 
to  speak  with  her  brother,  and  she  must  try  to  be  sat 
isfied  with  present  company.  At  which  Trix  gave  the 
speaker  a  look  that  freely  told  what  he  wanted  most 
to  know. 

The  friendly  shadows  of  eventide  might  have  been 
invoked  to  conceal  the  expression  of  the  two  young 
people  toward  each  other,  except  that  nothing  seemed 
to  call  for  apology  just  then.  On  the  blue  cars,  people 
old  and  young  had  been  committing  the  most  frantic 
eccentricities,  to  be  laughed  at  in  cold  blood  after 
ward.  Trix  and  Vyvan  had  merely,  as  the  race  pro 
gressed,  drawn  closer  together,  their  pulses  as  one, 
their  breath  mingling.  When,  for  a  brief  space,  the 
bluff  obscured  the  crews  from  view,  Trix  had  made  up 
her  mind  that  if,  when  they  saw  the  course  again, 
Yale  were  behind,  she  would  die  upon  the  spot.  It 
was  then  that  Vyvan  had  his  opportunity  to  lean 
down  and  whisper  something  in  her  ear — something 
rash,  unpremeditated,  squeezed  from  him  by  the  for 
lorn  look  of  her  face. 

And  then  it  was  that  Trix — fearless  Trix,  happy 


186  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

Trix — threw  away  forever  her  chance  to  become  joint- 
owner  of  the  yacht  Incognita,  with  all  that  it  implied. 

THE  extraordinary  conduct  of  Beatrix  in  running 
away  from  her  natural  protectors  on  the  yacht  was 
not  the  chief  of  Betty's  troubles  that  eventful  after 
noon.  She  was  even  secretly  glad  that  her  younger 
sister  had  been  spirited  away.  They  had  lingered 
long  over  the  luncheon  j  many  bottles  of  champagne 
had  been  called  to  a  last  account ;  fun,  "  as  they  found 
it "  in  Mrs.  Shaf  to's  set,  had  waxed  noisy.  Betty,  who 
saw  that  Eleanor  was  wretchedly  depressed,  had  to 
fathom  for  herself  the  workings  of  affairs.  There  had 
been,  whoever  was  to  blame,  apparently  nothing  to 
find  fault  with  in  Hilda  de  Lancey's  attitude,  although 
Betty  had  no  patience  with  Hildegarde's  baby-ways, 
her  low,  appealing  voice,  her  swimming  violet  eyes. 
One  thing  was  clear — Jerry  had  to-day  thrown  off 
restraint,  and  was  defying  comment  in  his  open  flirta 
tion  with  the  enchantress. 

As  to  that  Sophy  King  or  Shafto,  Betty  decided  she 
was  a  snake  in  the  grass,  of  the  venomous  variety.  If 
Betty  read  human  nature  aright,  she  had  worked  upon 
Jerry's  vanity  to  fan  his  old  fancy  for  Hildegarde 
up  to  the  present  fashionable  flaunting  of  a  surface- 
infidelity  to  legal  ties.  Betty  had  many  a  time  heard 
such  affairs  discussed  as  a  matter  of  every-day  in  her 
society.  Honest  men  and  women  laughed  and  joked 
over  the  like  among  their  friends.  To  hold  back  from 
such  jesting  was  to  admit  one's  self  provincial,  crude 
— and  Betty  had  not  held  back.  She  had  enjoyed  her 
own  sallies  on  these  subjects,  and  the  way  they  were 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  187 

repeated  and  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth.  But  the 
dart  had  never  before  gone  home  to  the  bull's-eye  of 
her  innermost  affections.  She  had  watched  Eleanor 
during  this  day  of  trial  with  increasing  pain.  It  was 
evident  that  some  especially  deep  wound  had  been 
sustained  by  the  young  wife,  who  bore  herself  withal 
so  pluckily. 

When  the  women  left  the  table  to  the  men,  the 
two  sisters  went  at  once  on  deck,  where  the  fresh  air, 
and  the  lively  spectacle  of  preparation  for  the  race, 
brought  a  more  cheerful  look  into  Eleanor's  wistful 
eyes.  They  talked  of  Beatrix,  of  Jack  and  his  chances, 
with  more  of  affectionate  interest  than  jealous  Trix 
had  been  willing  to  credit  them  with ;  and  just  as 
Betty  was  turning  over  in  her  mind  how  she  might 
probe  her  sister's  unspoken  grief,  Hilda  de  Lancey 
passed  out  the  door  of  the  cabin  opposite  to  where 
they  sat,  and,  accompanied  by  Jerry,  walked  forward 
to  the  far  end  of  the  boat,  where  together  they  leaned 
over  the  rail. 

Nell  saw,  but  did  not  look  after,  her  husband.  Bet 
ty,  with  a  flash  of  feeling  she  could  not  govern,  darted 
upon  Gerald  an  indignant  glance,  which  she  knew 
from  the  expression  of  his  flushed  face  and  mutinous 
eyes  would  have  absolutely  no  effect. 

"Well,  this  is — "  began  Betty,  at  white  heat. 

"  Don't,  dear ;  I  would  rather  not,"  interrupted  Elea 
nor,  her  lip  trembling  a  very  little,  but  without  giving 
other  sign. 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Shaf to  came  on  deck,  and,  sur 
veying  the  situation,  drew  a  chair  beside  the  sisters, 
and  sat  down  with  a  fine  air  of  bonhomie. 


188  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF    TUNE 

"  Such  a  game  of  cross-purposes  below/'  she  said, 
laughing  boisterously.  "  Timothy,  who  has  found  out 
your  naughty  little  sister's  prank,  is  in  a  big  fit  of  the 
sulks,  and  Hilda,  to  placate  him,  had  just  asked,  in 
her  prettiest  way,  to  be  shown  '  all  over  the  yacht,' 
when,  black  as  night  with  jealousy,  as  much  as  to  say, 
1  Who  's  poaching  on  my  preserves  ? '  up  steps  Jerry, 
and  carries  off  the  prize — " 

"  You  are  speaking  of  my  husband  ? "  Eleanor  asked 
freezingly. 

"  Bless  me,  whose  else  ?  But  allow  me  to  tell  you, 
you  don't  play  your  cards  well  to-day,  my  dear.  After 
your  clever  beginning  with  Theobald  we  looked  for 
better  things." 

At  this,  Betty  started  violently.  What  Eleanor 
would  have  said  was  choked  in  her  throat  by  the 
arrival  upon  the  scene  of  Major  Shafto,  Van  Loon, 
and  another  man  or  two,  who,  while  puffing  at  their 
cigars,  formed  in  a  ring  around  the  little  group,  ready 
to  be  amused  at  any  cost.  It  was  Mrs.  Shafto's  mis 
fortune  sometimes  to  miss  her  shot.  To-day  she  had 
calculated  well,  and  felt  pretty  sure  of  victory. 

"We  are  discussing  that  little  tendresse  over  yon 
der,"  she  said  easily,  indicating  to  the  newcomers,  with 
an  offhand  gesture,  the  figures  in  the  bow.  "And  I  'm 
giving  Mrs.  Vernon  '  points.'  The  fact  is,  American 
women  are  slow  in  following  up  their  advantages,  and 
after  the  compliment  <  Slings  and  Arrows'  paid  her  last 
week  about  the  Theobald  affair — ' 

"  By  Jove,  Sophy,  this  won't  do,"  said  the  .deep  bass 
voice  of  Major  Shafto,  who  had  been  slowly  taking  in 
the  scene. 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  189 

"What  won't  do?  Flirting  with  other  people's 
property?  You  '11  have  to  make  over  society,  old 
man,  before  you  leave  that  out.  Mrs.  Vernon  surely  is 
aware  that  all  the  world  has  been  praising  her  sharp 
practice  in  starting  an  opposition  to  Jerry's  little 
game,  though  it  was  hardly  to  be  expected  in  a  disci 
ple  of  the  prudish  Hallidays." 

"  I  say !  They  're  in  for  it,"  whispered  one  of  the 
men  to  Van  Loon.  "  It 's  a  '  Ladies'  Battle/  and  we 
must  stay  and  see  it  out." 

For  Betty,  watching  the  malicious  glitter  come  into 
Mrs.  Shafto's  eye,  entered  the  arena  at  a  bound. 

"  Don't  stop  your  wife,  Major  Shafto,"  she  said,  with 
perfect  self-command.  "  It 's  so  kind  of  her  to  show 
others  the  way  she  has  won  renown." 

"  That 's  a  nasty  one ! "  added  the  previous  critic, 
enjoyingly,  in  the  ear  of  Timothy,  who  was  growing 
rather  scared. 

"All  of  us,  probably,  except  my  sister,  have  read 
the  paragraph  Mrs.  Shafto  so  delicately  speaks  of. 
And  I  don't  believe  there  are  many  here  who  do  not 
suspect  its  origin.  But  as  regards  the  truth  of  it,  I 
must  really  interpose.  It  is  rather  forcing  my  cards 
to  make  me  announce  my  engagement  in  this  way— 
but — I  am  only  a  woman,  after  all — I  have  promised 
to  marry  Mr.  Theobald." 

"Really?  That  does  complicate  the  situation,"  said 
her  opponent,  with  a  daring  laugh,  and  their  hearers 
afterward  declared  that  in  spite  of  her  evident  dis 
comfiture  Sophy  Shafto  got  the  best  of  it. 

"  My  dearest  Betty,  how  glad  I  am  !  "  Eleanor  said, 
when  the  sisters  were  alone. 


190  SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE 

"I  had  no  idea  of  telling  yet — it  is  too  new — only 
a  week  old.  I  can  hardly  believe  it  myself/'  Betty 
answered.  "  But  the  sight  of  that  outrageous  woman 
gloating  over  her  mischief,  and  knowing  that  hateful 
little  Leeds  was  within  ear-shot,  were  too  much  for 
me.  I  did  what  I  knew  Tony  would  have  wished." 

"He  is  all  that  is  kind  and  true/7  sighed  Eleanor. 
"  Oh,  you  will  be  happy,  dear." 

Unconsciously  she  emphasized  the  you,  and  Betty, 
bending  over,  kissed  her  affectionately.  It  had  not 
entered  into  the  mind  of  either  to  connect  the  date  of 
Theobald's  offer  of  his  hand  to  Betty  with  that  of  the 
attack  in  print  upon  Eleanor's  good  name. 


XIII 


T  has  previously  been  told  that  the 
elder  Mrs.  Vernon's  one  authenti 
cated  link  with  established  society 
was  a  certain  Mrs.  Vane-Benson,  a 
far-away  consin  of  her  late  husband. 
This  lady,  also  a  widow,  was  well- 
looking  and  ambitious,  and  in  her  youth  had  married 
an  Englishman  of  good  family,  whose  death  left  her 
with  a  limited  income,  and  with  a  daughter  wedded 
for  her  pretty  face  by  a  rising  barrister  in  London, 
who  had  frankly  informed  his  wife  that  he  could  not 
abide  his  American  mother-in-law. 

When,  therefore,  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  visited  London 
to  be  with  those  whom  she  styled  her  "  dear  ones," 
she  was  driven  to  the  disagreeable  necessity  of  taking 
lodgings  near  the  daughter's  house,  and  living  in  a 
" betwixt  and  between"  way  not  at  all  to  her  taste. 
She  knew  "plenty  of  nice  English  people,"  but  they 
could  not  be  supposed  to  cherish  active  interest  in  an 
American  who  had  no  money  to  throw  around.  Her 
daughter's  friends  belonged  to  a  young  and  gay  set, 
and  altogether  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  felt  the  time  in 
London  hang  heavy  on  her  hands. 

Oftentimes  it  had  occurred  to  her  to  import  the 
191 


192  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

family  of  some  rich  new  American,  and,  for  a  con 
sideration,  to  chaperon  it  through  the  London  season ; 
but  she  was  ease-loving,  and  this  meant  awful  work. 
The  sudden  wish  of  her  cousin's  widow  to  find  com 
panionship  abroad  had  come  to  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  in 
the  nick  of  time.  It  gave  her  courage,  after  engaging 
the  rooms  desired  at  Claridge's,  to  take  a  neat  little 
victoria  and  drive  around  to  see  various  friends,  to 
all  of  whom,  over  their  tea-tables,  she  announced  the 
prospective  arrival  of  a  "ridiculously  rich"  relative 
from  the  States. 

It  is  most  convenient  that  English  people  have  no 
curiosity  about  the  social  status  at  home  of  their 
transatlantic  visitors.  It  makes  the  rough  places 
plain  for  so  many  worthy  persons,  and  illustrates,  on 
English  soil,  the  ideal  American  democracy.  Mrs. 
Vernon,  for  instance,  who  in  crossing  the  Atlantic 
had  been  rather  cowed  by  the  stand-off  grandeur  of 
one  or  two  New  York  families  of  fashion  who  shared 
with  her  the  privilege  of  deck  state-rooms  and  special 
stewards,  and  ate  and  drank  nothing  that  was  not 
served  from  their  luxurious  private  stores,  found  the 
same  people  in  London  mere  diminished  shades,  herd 
ing  at  hotels,  obliged  to  be  content  with  paying  their 
way  everywhere,  and  exhilarated  by  chance  acquaint 
ance  with  a  baronet.  She,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
had  so  long  languished  without  recognition  in  her 
adopted  home,  was,  by  a  series  of  fortunate  incidents, 
whirled  with  unexpected  speed  into  the  bosom  of 
Mayfair  society. 

The  impelling  cause  of  this  was  Mrs.  Vane-Benson's 
countess, — a  stout,  high-colored  dowager  who  was 


1  ; 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF   TUNE  195 

fond  of  novelties,  and  had  recently  taken  America 
under  her  wing, — who  lived,  when  in  town,  in  a  nar 
row,  dingy  brick  house  in  Curzon  street,  and  spent 
her  winters  inexpensively  abroad ;  the  chief  of  those 
ladies  to  whom  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  had  gone  at  tea- 
time  with  her  news. 

It  was  Lady  Shorthorn  (or,  to  speak  by  the  peerage, 
"Shorthorn,  Dowager  Countess  of  [Peer's  widow]  — 
Katherine  Clementina  Letitia  Janet,  dau.  of,"  etc. ; 
"mar.  1859  the  6th  Earl  of  Shorthorn,  who  died 
1870,"  etc.)  who  proposed  to  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  to 
remove  her  friend  from  the  princely  atmosphere  of 
Claridge's  into  a  private  dwelling.  It  was  her  own 
son  Lord  Shorthorn's  house  in  Prince's  Gate,  provi 
dentially  to  let  for  the  season,  or  for  two  seasons,  or 
for  many  seasons,  if  the  price  paid  were  sufficiently 
American.  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  told  Mrs.  Vernon  that 
poor  Lord  Shorthorn's  wife  had  eloped  under  sad 
circumstances  with  one  of  his  intimate  friends,  which 
would  never  have  happened  had  her  husband  been 
able  to  keep  up  the  house  in  Prince's  Gate,  since  poor 
Lady  Shorthorn  could  not  abide  the  country  in  May 
and  June. 

Mrs.  Vernon,  acceding  to  all  demands  upon  her 
purse,  accordingly  took  possession  of  the  Shorthorn 
residence,  with  its  worn  carpets,  dull  bedrooms,  and 
drawing-rooms  a  wilderness  of  shabby  chintz,  sprinkled 
with  ormolu  candelabra,  Dresden  shepherdesses,  and 
tarnished  mirror-frames. 

"You  must  tell  your  friend  not  to  be  frightened 
by  the  house,"  said  the  countess,  unconscious  of  two 
meanings  to  her  phrase.  "  I  dare  say  it  will  seem  for- 


196  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

midable  to  her  at  first.  And  the  servants  may  worry 
her — to  have  to  have  so  many,  you  know.  I  'm  told 
that  in  America  you  keep  only  two — help,  don't  you 
call  'em? — when  you  don't  live  altogether  in  hotels." 

"  Mrs.  Vernon  has  been  keeping  more  than  two," 
said  Mrs.  Vane-Benson,  meekly.  "I  suppose  Lord 
Shorthorn  won't  mind  her  getting  new  chintz  for  the 
drawing-room  ? " 

"  If  it 's  understood  she  >s  to  leave  it,  no,"  said  the 
dowager. 

The  new  chintz,  fresh  paint  and  papers,  balconies 
full  of  flowers  looking  out  on  the  lovely  square  behind 
the  house,  Mrs.  Vernon's  talent  for  re-disposing  fur 
niture,  and  the  objects  of  art  that  began  soon  to  find 
their  way  to  Prince's  Gate,  wrought  in  the  interior  a 
change  to  inspire  Lady  Shorthorn  with  sincere  regard 
for  the  new  tenant  of  Lord  Shorthorn's  house. 

"Now  she  is  settled,  she  must  know  somebody," 
remarked  the  dowager,  who  persisted  in  treating  Mrs. 
Vane-Benson's  compatriots  as  if  they  were  all  very 
young  people  of  limited  intelligence.  "  I  have  asked 
my  son,  when  he  has  time,  to  call,  and  perhaps  he 
may;  but  he  is  not  enough." 

"  Lord  Shorthorn  must  be  so  much  at  Ensilage  with 
the  dear  children,"  said  Mrs.  Vane-Benson,  although 
she  saw  the  name  of  the  nobleman  in  question  re 
peatedly  in  the  current  gaieties  of  the  "Morning 
Post." 

"Oh,  the  children,  of  course.  Three  of  them,  or 
four, — yes,  there  are  certainly  four, — are  a  mistake 
for  a  man  not  yet  thirty ;  but  Shorthorn  don't  dislike 
being  sometimes  at  Ensilage,  though  I  always  found 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  197 

the  castle  damp.  The  question  is,  How  are  we  to  get 
people  to  go  to  see  your  friend  ? n 

"I  had  thought,"  said  Mrs.  Vane-Benson,  hesitating, 
"of  a  ball." 

"  Hum !  not  bad,"  meditated  the  countess.  "  I 
think  I  could  get  people  enough  to  come  to  a 
really  good  ball.  But  I  should  have  to  make  her 
promise  not  to  interfere." 

"  How  not  to  interfere  ? " 

Lady  Shorthorn  stared. 

"  To  let  me  order  things,  and  ask  every  soul  who 
is  to  be  there.  I  can't  get  into  such  a  fuss  as  the 
duchess  had  with  your  Mrs.  Central  Parker  last  year. 
Why,  the  poor  duchess  had  actually  done  everything, 
asked  everybody,  and  expected  it  to  be  a  really  good 
ball.  And  then,  what  must  your  Mrs.  Central  Parker 
do,  but  take  fright  lest  the  duchess's  people  should  n't 
come,  and  at  the  last  moment  invite  a  lot  of  her  own 
friends !  Of  course  the  Americans  all  came.  To  be 
sure,  the  women  were  monstrous  cock-a-hoop  •  but 
the  duchess  was  so  vexed,  and  has  been  telling  every 
body  since  that  if  it  was  a  bad  bah*  she  washed  her 
hands  of  it." 

"Mrs.  Vernon  knows  only  a  few  of  her  country 
people  in  London — the  Blanks  and  the  Dashes,"  said 
Mrs.  Vane-Benson,  mentioning  families  of  whom  she 
felt  secure. 

"  Oh,  I  have  met  your  Mr.  Blank,  and  he  seemed  to 
me  a  very  nice  sort  of  person,  really,"  said  the  dowager. 
"  I  have  met  so  few  American  men.  Excepting  that 
nice  Mr.  Black,  who  's  just  like  an  Englishman,  and 
Mr.  Blank,  I  don't  think  I  know  any.  And,  of  course, 
13* 


198  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

there  must  be  many  more.  To  go  back  to  the  ball, 
tell  your  friend  that  I  '11  do  it,  really,  and  she  need 
not  concern  herself  except  to  pay  for  it.  Knowing 
the  house  as  I  do,  it  will  be  easier.  Perhaps  she  will 
want  to  give  the  ball  elsewhere ;  but  I  would  n't  care 
for  that.  She  will  enjoy  seeing  the  ball  the  way  I 
shall  give  it  at  Shorthorn's  house.  I  'm  told  all  your 
best  American  parties  are  given  at  restaurants.  It 
must  be  quite  shocking,  with  strangers  coming  in  and 
ordering  their  own  food  at  the  other  little  tables.  I 
can't  understand  it  in  the  least — " 

"Oh,  but  you  must  let  me  explain  to  you — "  cried 
Mrs.  Vane-Benson,  stung  beyond  the  point  of  silence. 

" — Or  else  you  hire  the  whole  floors  of  hotels,  and 
take  down  the  beds,"  pursued  the  countess,  "  and  the 
guests  go  up  in  the — elevators.  You  see  I  know  even 
your  way  of  talking  in  America." 

"  The  best  way  for  you  to  know  America  is  to  visit 
it  yourself  some  day,"  said  Mrs.  Vane-Benson,  politely. 

"  Me  ?  God  forbid  !  "  said  the  dowager.  "  We  must 
have  all  one  kind  of  flowers  in  the  big  saloon ;  fox 
gloves,  perhaps,  or  orchids  —  does  your  friend  know 
orchids?  And  there  must  be  plenty  of  champagne. 
Your  friend  must  be  made  to  understand  beforehand 
about  champagne." 

"We  drink  champagne  by  the  gallon  in  America," 
retorted  Mrs.  Vane-Benson  in  desperation. 

"  Oh,  I  think  not,"  said  Lady  Shorthorn  without  a 
change  of  expression  on  her  large,  fair  face.  "It 
would  make  you  so  very  sick.  Lord  Midlands  him 
self  told  me  when  he  dined  at  your — er — ah — chief 
palace,  you  know — the  White  House, — yes,  a  few 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  199 

years  ago, — they  gave  him  Apollinaris  only,  and 
handed  boiled  milk  with  the  coffee,  in  large  cups, 
during  dinner.  You  see  I  Ve  made  quite  a  study 
of  America." 

"  I  suppose  when  you  get  everything  arranged  for 
the  ball,"  resumed  Mrs.  Vane-Benson,  struggling  no 
more,  "it  will  be  well  to  let  the  newspapers  have  a 
list  of  the  expected  guests." 

" Perhaps;  it  don't  signify — who  reads  newspa 
pers?"  said  her  ladyship,  comfortably.  "There  are 
so  many  things  in  them  one  really  can't  believe. 
Imagine  one  of  them  saying,  the  other  day,  that  your 
Mr.  What  's-his-iiame  had  taken  Guelph  House  for  the 
season,  and  if  he  liked  it,  after  staying  here  awhile, 
he  would  probably  buy  England.  Now,  fancy  buy 
ing  England — how  could  he,  possibly?  Tell  your 
friend  all  I  have  said,  my  dear,  and  make  her  be 
most  careful  about  receiving  Americans  till  then,  for 
there  's  no  knowing  whether  it  might  not  spoil  her 
ball." 

THE  ball,  good  or  bad,  was  about  to  be  an  accom 
plished  fact.  Mrs.  Vernon  had  been  turning  over  her 
piles  of  acceptances,  asking  herself,  with  a  delicious 
thrill,  if  it  could  be  she — she  whom  the  Van  Shuters 
had  so  tardily  recognized  and  the  Van  Loons  had 
never  invited — who  was  about  to  receive  as  her  guests 
half  the  Lords  Adolphus  and  Ladies  Ermyntrude  in 
the  peerage. 

The  Shorthorn  residence,  from  the  hands  of  deco 
rators  astonished  by  liberal  orders,  had  come  forth 
a  fairy-land  of  lights  and  garlands,  draperies  and 


200  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

plants.  Late  in  the  evening  Mrs.  Vernon,  more  ex 
cited  than  she  had  ever  known  herself  to  be,  wearing 
a  tea-gown  of  lace  and  satin,  descended  to  the  ground 
floor  to  bestow  a  survey  upon  her  tables  for  supper, 
and  the  accompanying  buffet. 

At  the  moment  of  crossing  the  lower  hall  she  had 
become  aware  of  one  of  her  footmen  engaged  at  the 
front  door  in  parleying  with  some  would-be  visitor,  to 
whom  he  mechanically  repeated  the  formula  of  "  Not 
at  'ome.';  As  she  was  returning  to  go  again  up-stairs, 
Mrs.  Vernon  caught  a  glimpse  of  what  seemed  a  famil 
iar  face  in  the  gap  made  by  the  partly  opened  door. 

"  Hif  you  please,  'm,"  said  the  footman,  raising  his 
voice  to  address  his  mistress  with  such  emphasis  that 
the  powder  flew  from  his  ambrosial  locks,  "  'ere  's  a 
pusson  as  won't  by  no  means  be  hinduced  to  leave 
with-hout  speaking  a  word  with  you." 

He  was  a  young  footman,  or  what  happened  might 
not  have  been.  The  intruder,  taking  advantage  of 
him  to  push  by,  entered  the  brilliantly  lighted  hall. 
Mrs.  Vernon  gazed  at  her — it  was  a  woman — with 
absolute  dismay.  It  was  Calliope  Jane  Ketcham,  once 
her  companion  "  table  girl "  at  Judd's  ! 

"Mrs.  Vernon,  I  believe?'7  said  the  new  arrival. 
"  Pardon  me,  madam,  for  seeming  to  intrude  on  you  j 
but  I  am  the  London  correspondent  of  the  New  York 
1  Planet/  and  I  have  been  instructed  by  cable  to  give 
half  a  column  to  your  entertainment.  If  you  would 
be  so  kind  as  to  allow  me  to  glance  at  the  decorations, 
and  at  your  list  of  acceptances — " 

"You — I — please  walk  up-stairs,"  stammered  the 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  201 

unfortunate  hostess,  entirely  at  a  loss  for  words  or 
actions. 

She  led  the  way  to  the  suite  of  glittering  rooms 
above,  fragrant  with  the  breath  of  thousands  of  cut 
blossoms,  and  from  which  the  last  of  the  decorators 
vanished  as  they  came  in,  bestowing  upon  Mrs.  Ver- 
non  a  bow  as  if  to  royalty. 

"  I  guess  I  did  n't  do  you  much  harm  running  you 
out  o'  New  York,  Luella,"  said  Calliope's  best-known 
tones.  "  'Pears  like  you  'd  kinder  think  I  was  a 
blessing  in  disguise." 

"You — torment!  What  do  you  want  now?"  al 
most  hissed  the  lady  of  the  house. 

"Charming — acacia  in  that  recess,  I  see,"  said  the 
reporter,  jotting  down  notes  as  a  stray  servant  passed 
them  by.  "  Now  that  I  have  a  fair  idea  of  the  decora 
tions,  you  will  kindly  allow  me  a  glance  at  the  gown 
you  are  going  to  wear  ?  If  you  please,  I  will  follow 
you." 

In  Mrs.  Vernon's  bedroom,  the  maids  being  absent, 
Mrs.  Vernon's  wrath  broke  forth. 

"  Go  away  !     I  won't  stand  it !  "  she  said  rapidly. 

"  Presently ;  all  in  good  time,  Luella.  I  am  really 
a  London  correspondent,  and  this  half-column  means 
bread  you  would  n't  take  out  of  my  mouth." 

"What  has  become  of  your  gains  from  your  last 
swindle  in  New  York  ? " 

"  The  last  ?  Since  circumstances  forced  me  to  with 
draw  from  the  '  Oppressed  Wives '  movement,  I  have 
been  for  a  short  time  the  widowed  i  companion '  of  a 
lady  whom  you  know.  You  can't  think  how  I  love 


202  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

my  weeds,  Luella.  They  become  me  better  than  any 
other  dress,  and  people  are  always  moved  by  hearing 
of  my  poor  dead  husband.  True,  the  lady  I  lived  with 
last  was  not  so  moved  as  she  might  have  been  by  that 
variety  of  sorrow.  But  her  place  suited  me,  and  I 
should  have  remained  in  comfort  for  the  summer, 
but  at  the  end  of  a  month  I  had  to  leave." 

"  Suddenly?"  said  Mrs.  Vernon,  with  a  curling  lip. 

"  Suddenly,"  said  Calliope,  dropping  her  eyes,  and 
smiling.  "  But  you  don't  ask  me  the  name  of  my  last 
employer,  dear.  And  yet,  by  a  strange  fatality,  in 
her  house  I  found  myself  again  involved  in  affairs 
that  had  to  do  with  you." 

"With  me?  You  're  mistaken  there,"  said  Mrs. 
Vernon,  with  a  hard  laugh,  all  her  society  grace  and 
conventional  mannerisms  dropping  from  her  like  a 
garment. 

"  With  your  son,  then,  whose  habits  and  character  I 
had  full  opportunity  to  observe,  for  he  was  with  her 
every  day." 

"It  is  a  slander.     He  swore  to  me — " 

"  Then  you  do  know  whom  I  mean.  You  are  n't 
surprised  to  hear  that  I  went  as  guardian  to  the  man 
ners  and  morals  of  the  lovely  Hildegarde  ?  No,  my 
dear,  don't  interrupt  me.  As  the  boys  at  Judd's  used 
to  say,  <  I  'm  the  Wild  Wolf  from  Bitter  Creek,  and 
it 's  my  night  to  howl.'  I  found  that  young  woman 
has  as  neat  a  talent  for  double-dealing  as  I  Ve  ever 
chanced  to  see.  No  more  heart  than  you  'd  hold  on 
a  pin-point,  and  a  love  of  flirting  for  flirting's  sake, 
as  other  women  love  their  drams  of  morphine  and 
chloral.  Your  youngster  is  a  fool  to  think  she 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT    OF    TUNE  203 

wants  him  except  as  a  stop-gap  till  she  can  establish 
herself  by  another  marriage.  If  she  could  get  that 
rich  fish  Van  Loon,  she  'd  soon  give  your  Jerry  the 
mitten.  Meanwhile  she  likes  playing  with  him,  and 
dragging  him  on,  and  then  shutting  the  door  in  his 
face.  She  's  no  more  pity  for  his  wife  than  a  cat  has 
for  a  mouse.  It 's  been  rare  fun  to  her  ordering  him 
hither  and  thither,  saying  he  must  go  to  Newport 
because  she  means  to  take  a  house  there,  or  to  dear 
knows  where,  because  she  has  a  fancy  for  trying  it. 
And,  with  all  this,  I  don't  suppose  you  doubt  she 
owes  you  a  grudge  for  not  letting  her  become  your 
daughter-in-law  last  year !  And  that  Shafto  woman 
is  a  match  for  her.  When  they  7re  not  quarreling 
the  two  work  together,  and  they  're  together  in  mis 
chief  now." 

"  Do  you  expect  only  to  make  me  angry  by  telling 
me  of  this!" 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Calliope,  coolly,  drawing  an  enve 
lop  from  her  pocket.  "  I  pride  myself  on  my  system. 
I  Ve  got  a  letter  here  that  would  open  Jerry's  eyes  to 
Mrs.  Hildegarde,  and  I  want  to  sell  it  —  high" 

AN  hour  later,  Mrs.  Vernon,  girthed  and  buskined 
for  the  fray,  stood  at  her  post  beside  ample  Lady 
Shorthorn,  receiving  such  a  crush  of  titled  and  distin 
guished  personages  as  left  no  doubt  in  Lady  Short 
horn's  mind  of  her  own  cleverness  in  avoiding  the 
disaster  brought  on  the  duchess  by  Mrs.  Central 
Parker.  There  was  not,  all  told,  more  than  a  handful 
of  Americans  in  the  rooms,  and  not  a  family  among 
them  that  did  not  boast  of  the  redeeming  pretty  wo- 


204  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

man.  Late  in  the  evening  Lord  Shorthorn  strolled 
in,  and  was  made  known  to  his  remunerative  tenant. 
Next  day  Mrs.  Vernon  awoke  to  find  herself  the 
fashion.  True,  a  hornet's  nest  of  gossip  about  her 
was  let  loose  from  the  ignored  Americans  in  London  j 
but  it  was  well  on  in  the  season,  and  by  another  year 
she  would  have  lived  such  trifles  down. 


XIY 


HE  principal  person,  strange  to  say, 
to  take  umbrage  at  Mrs.  Vernon's 
rapid  rise  was  her  original  backer, 
Lady  Shorthorn.  One  afternoon  in 
July,  when  town  was  thinning  fast, 
the  dowager's  one-horse  brougham 
stopped  before  the  house  in  Prince's  Gate,  and  the 
dowager,  going  in,  was  encountered  on  the  threshold 
by  her  son,  who  bowed  to  her,  smiling,  and  hurried 
on  to  a  hansom  for  which  one  of  Mrs.  Vernon's  foot 
men  had  been  whistling  from  the  step. 

Lord  Shorthorn  was  a  handsome  young  man,  with 
a  blond  mustache,  and  legs  so  long  that  when  he  sat 
down  they  seemed  to  stretch  interminably  across  the 
room.  He  was  well  dressed,  from  his  shining  hat  and 
perfectly  rolled  umbrella,  to  the  polished  shoes  upon 
his  uncommonly  large  feet.  Lady  Shorthorn  did  not 
smile  on  him.  She  went  at  once  up-stairs  to  the 
drawing-room,  where  Mrs.  Vernon  sat,  and  refused 
tea  from  that  lady's  hands,  as  well  as  bread  and  but 
ter  in  thin  slices  from  a  large  silver  plate. 

"I  thought  you  would  be  leavin'  town,"  she  said. 
"  Every  one  is  leavin'  town." 

205 


206  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

"  I  have  the  kindest  invitations  to  Lord  John's,  and 
the  Duke's,  and  those  dear  Cholmondeleys,"  said  Mrs. 
Vernon,  easily ;  "  and  I  dare  say  I  shall  manage  to  do 
them  all.  But  that  is  for  August." 

"You  might  go  to — well — Eastbourne — for  a 
while.'7 

"  Oh,  I  hate  Eastbourne,"  said  Mrs.  Vernon,  who, 
two  months  ago,  would  not  have  ventured  to  hate  any 
place  named  by  the  dowager.  "  I  have  knocked  about 
so  much,  I  really  like  it  better  here." 

"  I  saw  my  son  goin'  out  of  here.  I  am  surprised 
he  is  not  at  Ensilage." 

"  Yes ;  every  one  says  it  is  a  most  beautiful  place." 

"Beautiful  in  situation,  yes;  but  damp,  as  I  told 
you  once  before.  I  don't  think  any  one  living  at 
Ensilage  could  long  keep  their  health.  And  those 
three  children — no,  four,  there  are  four — have  their 
mother's  temper  •  and  I  am  obliged  to  say  Shorthorn's 
own  temper  is — I  told  him  so  when  they  gave  him  his 
divorce — Shorthorn's  own  temper  is  dreadfully  tryin', 
as  any  one  who  lives  with  him  must  find." 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  Princess  Argentine's  garden- 
party  at  Lean  Lodge  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Vernon,  pleasantly. 

"No;  I  'm  not  asked — are  you?  Well,  nothin' 
surprises  one  to-day.  I  suppose  Shorthorn  will  be 
goin',  too.  I  should  think  he  'd  be  careful  about 
doin'  as  much  as  I  hear  he  does.  I  believe  it  's  not 
generally  known  Shorthorn  has  a — er — a  valve  in 
his  heart.  Sir  James  warned  him  about  it  when  he 
was  quite  a  lad  at  Oxford." 

"It  is  very  sad,"  murmured  Mrs.  Vernon,  looking 
at  her  with  sympathetic  eyes. 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE  209 

"  He  has  undoubtedly  a  valve ;  aud  he  has  lived  so 
fast,  and  got  himself  into  such  a  ridiculous  lot  of 
debts,  I  don't  know  what  7s  to  become  of  him.  The 
only  hope  we  have  is  the  marriage  with  his  cousin 
Kelso's  girl." 

"  Lady  Sybilla  is  a  charming  person,"  Mrs.  Vernon 
answered. 

"It  is  so  suitable;  just  what  both  families  want. 
You  will  be  interested,  because  you  have  a  married 
son." 

"  Yes,  I  have  a  married  son." 

"Who  must  be  nearly  Shorthorn's  age,  is  n't  he? 
You  know  how  you  7d  have  felt,  if  people  had  said  he 
was  goin7  to  throw  himself  away  upon  —  er — ah — a 
nobody  old  enough  to  be  his  mother,"  said  the  coun 
tess,  getting  on  her  feet,  losing  her  temper,  and  blurt 
ing  out  her  words. 

"  Lord  and  Lady  William  Hampshire.  The  'onor- 
able  Harthur  Fitz- Greene,  Sir  Lionel  Delacour," 
chanted  a  man-servant,  withdrawing  the  portiere. 

"  You  will  show  Lady  Shorthorn  to  the  door,"  said 
Mrs.  Vernon  to  this  functionary,  after  greeting  her 
new  guests ;  and  down-stairs  puffed  the  large  countess, 
in  helpless,  speechless  wrath.  She  stepped  into  her 
brougham  and  drove  away,  feeling  that  she  had  not 
helped  Lady  Sybilla's  chances,  and  registering  a  vow 
to  have  done  with  all  Americans.  Meeting  Mrs. 
Vane-Benson  in  the  park,  she  began  by  cutting  that 
unoffending  lady  dead. 

SOON  after  the  onslaught  of  the  irate  countess,  Mrs. 
Vernon  was  called,  on  her  own  account,  to  experience 
14 


210  SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE 

certain  pangs  of  anxiety  regarding  a  son  of  whom 
other  women  took  kind  heed. 

A  few  days  later,  when  she  was  making  ready  to 
receive  Gerald  and  Eleanor,  who  were  due  to  arrive 
in  Prince's  Gate  for  a  visit  on  their  way  to  the  Conti 
nent,  came  a  startling  note  written  by  Jerry  on  the 
steamer  and  posted  at  Queenstown,  telling  her  that 
he  had  crossed  the  ocean  alone,  leaving  his  wife  with 
her  mother  in  America — an  arrangement  of  which  he 
saw  no  definite  prospect  of  change,  and  in  consequence 
of  which  it  would  hardly  be  pleasant  to  meet  his  mother 
until  feeling  on  the  subject  had  had  time  to  die  down. 
He  gave  the  address  of  a  hotel  in  Paris  where  a  letter 
from  her  might  reach  him,  but  warned  her  that  no 
attempt  at  mediation  would  have  a  hearing  from  him, 
and  that  he  meant  to  "  travel  till  further  notice." 

Now,  indeed,  the  world  seemed  for  a  while  dark  be 
fore  the  mother.  But  with  characteristic  energy  she 
decided  her  plan  of  action,  and,  crossing  by  the  night 
boat,  was  in  Paris  the  next  day,  and  early  in  attend 
ance  at  the  address  given  by  her  son. 

Jerry,  who  at  the  most  had  expected  from  her  an 
angry  telegram  or  letter  to  which  he  would  turn  a 
deaf  ear,  as  he  had  done  many  times  before,  was  taken 
disagreeably  by  surprise.  He  received  his  mother 
sullenly,  and  she  at  once  saw  that  he  was  under  the 
influence  of  a  mixture  of  emotions  among  which 
wounded  pride  was  uppermost. 

"  Answer  me  one  question,  Gerald  Vernon,  or  you 
are  no  son  of  mine/7  the  widow  said  fiercely.  "Has 
any  other  wroman  got  to  do  with  this  mad  performance 
of  yours  f  " 


SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE  211 

"  I  don't  know  what  business  you  have  to  ask/'  her 
son  said,  "  and  I  wish  to  heaven  you  'd  let  me  alone 
and  go  away.  I  got  a  chill,  or  something,  on  that 
infernal  ship,  and  I  have  n't  slept  all  night,  and  my 
back  and  head  are  as  heavy  as  lead." 

"  You  do  look  ill,"  his  mother  said,  struck,  as  he  had 
meant  her  to  be,  with  sudden  solicitude.  "But,  Jerry, 
I  can't  rest  till  I  know  all.  I  'm  not  going  to  appeal 
to  you  for  myself,  or  for  that  poor  girl  you  've  left  in 
America,  who  's  worth  twenty  such  women  as  you  've 
let  make  a  fool  of  you.  I  will  change  my  question. 
Where  is  Hildegarde  de  Lancey,  who  was  a  passenger 
on  the  ship  with  you,  as  I  saw  by  the  published  list  ? " 

"At  a  hotel,  or  on  a  train — or — how  should  I 
know?"  cried  he,  stung  into  open  answer.  "It 's  all 
somebody's  mischief.  I  've  not  seen  her  since  we 
landed.  She  went  up  from  Liverpool  with  a  lot  of 
people  to  London  on  an  earlier  train,  and  left  me  no 
address." 

"  She  's  flying  for  higher  game,  Jerry,  my  lad,"  said 
the  widow,  a  satiric  smile  breaking  upon  her  counte 
nance.  "  She  knows  now  you  get  every  cent  you  have 
from  me ;  and  she  's  a  deep  one." 

"  Don't  abuse  her.  I  won't  stand  it,"  he  cried  vio 
lently,  a  dull  red  flush  settling  around  his  heavy  eyes. 
"  She 's  the  best  friend  I  have,  and  the  noblest  woman 
I  know — the  only  woman  who  understands  me,  and 
gives  me  the  sympathy  I  need." 

"  If  that  is  your  case,  my  dear  boy,"  said  the  widow, 
seating  herself  deliberately  beside  the  lounge  on  which 
he  had  cast  himself,  and  taking  out  an  envelop,  "  per 
haps  you  will  run  your  eye  over  this  letter,  written 


212  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

recently  by  Hildegarde  to  her  sister-spirit,  Mrs.  Shaf  to, 
and  giving  her  frank  opinion  of  a  certain  dangler  at 
her  apron-string.  Don't  ask  me  where  I  got  it.  It 's 
hers,  and  that  7s  enough." 

THAT  night  Mrs.  Vernon  with  her  son  re-crossed  the 
Channel.  They  reached  Prince's  Gate  for  breakfast. 
But  no  consideration  of  the  matin  meal  was  of  in 
terest  to  Jerry,  or  would  be  so  for  many  a  morning 
to  come.  By  the  time  he  stepped  out  of  the  hansom, 
following  his  mother,  the  footman  who  came  to  take 
out  the  bags  had  to  give  him  an  arm  across  the  pave 
ment  to  the  door,  and  within  five  hours  Gerald  was  in 
bed,  with  a  doctor  and  a  trained  nurse  in  attendance, 
in  the  first  stage  of  a  serious  attack  of  typhoid  fever. 


XV 


EN  days  before  these  things  took 
place  on  the  other  side  of  the  great 
Atlantic  ferry,  Eleanor  Vernon  in 
New  York  was  joyously  concluding 
her  final  preparations  to  go  abroad 
with  her  husband.  Their  passage 
having  been  engaged  in  a  ship  leaving  the  next  day, 
her  heart  was  full  of  happiness  at  thought  of  what 
awaited  her. 

After  a  farewell  visit  to  her  mother's  place  on  the 
Hudson,  where  the  Hallidays  were  enjoying  country 
life  with  their  laurel-crowned  hero  Jack,  she  had  come 
with  her  maid  to  town,  to  join  Jerry  at  their  own 
house. 

Nell  could  not  believe  it  was  she  whose  spirit 
bounded  with  such  delight  at  the  prospect  of  putting 
the  sea  between  herself  and  the  old  home.  She  was 
past  reasoning.  For  so  long  she  had  dwelt  upon  this 
thought — if  she  could  get  Jerry  away;  off  to  herself, 
the  happy  time  of  their  honeymoon  would  surely  again 
return.  Now  it  was  soon  to  come ;  Jerry  had  ceased 
to  vacillate,  their  plans  were  made,  she  was  to  taste 
of  a  deep,  brimming  cup  of  joy,  Jerry's  shortcomings 
14*  213 


214  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

were  washed  away  in  a  flood  of  new  tenderness.  No 
need  to  go  back  to  their  sad  days  like  the  one  upon 
the  yacht.  Since  Betty's  engagement  with  Theobald 
had  been  announced,  Jerry  had  asked  his  wife's  pardon 
for  what  she  considered  his  greatest  offense  against 
her — asked  in  such  manly  fashion  that  her  heart 
melted  with  pleasure  in  yielding  it.  Mrs.  de  Lancey 
and  the  Shaf  tos  had  gone  on  a  cruise  along  the  eastern 
coast  in  Van  Loon's  yacht,  and  the  young  couple  had 
been  perforce  thrown  upon  each  other  for  entertain 
ment.  During  the  visit  to  Eleanor's  mother,  they 
had  lived  together  for  a  brief  restful  time,  and  then 
Gerald  had  been  summoned  back  to  town  by  Mrs. 
Vernon's  man  of  business,  to  consult  about  some  of 
her  affairs. 

It  had  been  arranged  between  husband  and  wife, 
their  establishment  being  mounted  for  the  summer  in 
picnic  fashion,  that  he  should  take  her  for  dinner  to 
Delmonico's.  As  the  hot  summer's  dusk  fell  over  the 
dull  streets,  and  Jerry  did  not  appear,  Eleanor  began 
to  feel  the  pangs  of  her  healthy  appetite  deadened  by 
growing  anxiety.  When  Elsa  brought  up  and  pressed 
upon  her  a  tray  of  food,  she  made  pretense  of  eating, 
but,  as  the  girl  left  the  morning-room  where  she  sat, 
returned  quickly  to  the  window,  and  strained  her  eyes 
into  the  gathering  night.  The  gas-lamp  near  their 
house,  flaming  out,  seemed  to  mock  her  with  dancing 
in  her  tears. 

Eight  o'clock,  nine  o'clock,  and  a  ring  at  the  front 
door.  Eleanor,  springing  to  the  head  of  the  staircase, 
saw  below  a  messenger  boy's  cap  and  uniform.  The 
note  Elsa  handed  her  was  in  an  unfamiliar  hand,  and 


SWEET  BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  215 

once  or  twice  she  turned  it  over  without  opening, 
after  the  foolish  fashion  many  people  have  of  specu 
lating  about  what  can  so  quickly  be  ascertained. 

Eleanor  had  had  no  previous  experience  with  anony 
mous  letters,  and  this,  her  first,  was  a  bitter  one.  She 
could  not  comprehend  why  there  should  be  no  signa 
ture,  and  looked  again  ere  she  read  the  hateful  lines 
that  forced  their  way  into  her  bewildered  understand 
ing.  An  older,  wiser  woman  would  have  destroyed 
the  note  without  reading,  upon  the  first  indication  of 
its  contents ;  but  knowledge  so  to  deal  with  the  most 
cruel  implements  of  modern  social  warfare  comes  only 
with  experience.  She  was  still  clutching  the  paper, 
staring  at  what  it  told  her,  when  her  husband  came 
into  the  room. 

"  Nell  dear,  you  must  have  thought  I  was  a  wretch 
not  to  telegraph  you  I  could  n't  come,"  he  said,  leaning 
down  to  kiss  her.  "  But  I  was  kept  by  a  disagreeable 
thing:  a  man  —  an  old  college-mate  of  mine — got 
himself  into  a  mess  with  drink  and  foolishness,  and 
sent  for  me ;  and  I  had  to  haul  him  on  his  feet,  and 
pack  him  out  of  town  to  his  wife  in  the  South.  1 7m 
just  back  from  Jersey  City,  where  I  saw  him  to  the 
train — why,  what  on  earth  is  the  matter,  Eleanor?" 

"It  is  not  the  first,  but  the  most  plausible,  story 
you  have  made  cover  deceit  to  me,"  she  said  fiercely, 
facing  him,  and  crumpling  the  paper  in  her  hand. 
She  lighted  it  above  the  lamp,  and  threw  it  into  the 
fireplace,  watching  it  blacken  to  tinder.  "Oh,  if  I 
could  only  burn  up  as  easily  the  shame  my  life  with 
you  has  brought  me  !  " 

"Eleanor,  are  you  insane?    What  is  that  letter? 


210  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

What  has  put  you  into  this  state  ?  Come,  calm  your 
self.  Are  n't  you  well  ?  Do  you  need  a  doctor  ? " 

"  There  is  no  doctor  who  could  help  me/7  she  said 
drearily.  "And  I  'm  not  one  to  hide  and  equivocate 
like  you.  I  '11  tell  you  what  the  letter  said — not  all 
— you  may  guess  the  rest.  It  said  that  woman — the 
woman  you  still  loved  when  you  married  me — is 
going  in  the  ship  with  us  to-morrow,  and  that  I  am 
the  laughing-stock  of  all  who  know  us." 

Jerry  was  silent  for  a  minute.  He  had  fancied 
Eleanor  always  the  loving,  pardoning  creature  she 
had  hitherto  shown  herself.  He  had  absolutely  no 
conception  of  the  hard  scorn  and  anger  now  in  her 
face  and  voice.  It  drove  out  of  him  the  soothing 
words  and  kinder  impulses  he  had  brought  up-town 
to  her,  together  with  the  truth  upon  his  lips  about 
the  cause  of  his  detention. 

"  Oh !  why  is  there  no  angel  to  stand  by  with  a 
naming  sword,  and  warn  young  girls  what  married 
life  is  really  f "  she  cried.  "  No  one  tells — no,  not  one 
living  soul — what  we  have  to  meet.  The  parents  that 
give  us  away,  the  clergyman  that  binds  us,  the  books 
we  read,  all  lead  us  to  the  altar  and  leave  us  to  our 
fate  !  Who  could  dream  of  what  I  Ve  suffered  in  half 
a  year?  And  what  help  have  I?  None — God  help 
me — none  !  " 

The  burst  of  vehement  indignation  had  dropped 
suddenly  into  pathos,  but  Gerald  was  not  moved. 

"If  you  expect  by  this  to  make  me  fall  down  on 
my  knees,  and  own  I  'm  a  wretch,  you  're  out  of  your 
reckoning,"  he  said  frigidly.  "  There 's  not  one  person 
out  of  ten  you  could  get  to  say  you  're  anything  but 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  217 

a  jealous,  hysterical  girl.  And  what  yon  hint  about 
another  woman  I  don't  mean  to  notice  further  than 
to  say  it 's  the  first  time  I  Ve  heard  of  expecting  any 
one  to  overhaul  a  big  ship's  list,  and  say  who  shall  or 
shall  not  sail  in  her." 

"  She  is  going,  then,  with  us  ? "  said  Eleanor. 

"  With  us  ?  Certainly  not.  I  am  not  so  sure  about 
our  going  at  all,  if  this  is  the  kind  of  traveling  com 
panion  I  'm  likely  to  have.  Mrs.  de  Lancey  has  de 
cided  to  take  her  daughters  and  their  governess  to 
Switzerland  for  the  summer;  and  we,  as  you  know, 
intend  to  go  direct  to  my  mother's  house  in  London." 

"I  will  not  go,"  she  cried,  with  a  swelling  heart. 

"Try  to  understand  what  you  are  doing,"  Gerald 
answered,  after  a  pause  wretched  to  both  of  them. 
"  It  may  come  to  you  too  late  to  be  sorry  you  made 
this  stand  against  your  husband." 

Eleanor  interlaced  her  hands,  and  her  breath  came 
panting.  She  looked  at  him  with  a  wild  appealing 
glance.  He  stood  before  her,  determined,  stolid,  treat 
ing  the  whole  affair  like  the  outburst  of  a  silly  child. 
There  was  no  sign  of  softening  in  his  face. 

"I  refuse  to  go  with  you — and  lier"  she  said  again, 
doggedly. 

"  Then  you  may  go  home  to  your  mother,  and  ask 
her  to  teach  you  reason,"  he  answered — and  left  her 
to  herself. 

SHE  lay  sobbing  alone,  all  night,  and  early  in  the 
morning  heard  Gerald  go  out  of  the  house.  The 
hours  wore  on;  men  came  and  took  away  his  lug 
gage,  already  packed  ;  and  Eleanor,  dreary  and  bewil- 


218  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

dered,  felt  as  if  each  piece  were  a  coffin  carried  down. 
By  noon,  shortly  before  the  hour  fixed  for  the  ship  to 
leave,  she  had  made  some  excuse  to  her  servants  about 
a  delay  in  their  journey,  and,  calling  a  cab,  drove  in 
desperation  to  the  steamer's  wharf. 

Even  in  the  full  air  from  the  water  she  seemed  to 
stifle  as  they  drew  nearer  to  the  pier.  Leaving  the 
cab,  she  went,  thickly  veiled,  along  the  passenger- way 
to  the  gang-plank,  and  stood  for  a  moment  behind  a 
crowd  of  onlookers,  gazing  up  at  the  thronged  decks 
of  the  steamer.  She  had  a  wild  idea  that  Jerry  might 
even  then  see  and  know  and  want  her ;  might  beckon 
to  her,  and  she  would  follow  him  to  the  death.  But 
she  did  not  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  husband  until  after 
the  warning  gong  had  cleared  the  deck  of  visitors, 
and  the  little  groups  of  passengers  were  beginning  to 
congregate  behind  the  rail  to  wave  good-by  to  their 
friends  on  shore.  At  last,  emerging  from  the  throng, 
she  saw  him,  alone,  looking  down  as  if  searching  in 
the  crowd. 

A  keen  delight  filled  Eleanor,  and  instinctively  she 
darted  forward  with  the  impulse  to  fly  up  the  gang 
way  and  fasten  upon  his  arm,  never  to  leave  her  dar 
ling  more.  Just  then  a  carriage  drove  swiftly  up,  in 
tercepting  her,  and  a  party  of  belated  passengers  were 
hurried  by  the  steamer's  men  on  deck.  They  were  a 
governess,  two  dainty,  pretty  children,  and  a  beautiful 
blonde  woman,  her  arms  full  of  flowers. 

A  moment,  and  the  gang-plank  was  withdrawn. 
The  last  mail-sack  was  hoisted  on  board,  the  last  long 
shoreman  scrambled  down  his  ladder  bridge,  the  great 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  219 

steamer  cast  off  from  the  wharf,  and  bore  majestically 
down-stream. 

As  Eleanor  went  back  to  her  cab,  a  gentleman 
looked  after  her,  paused,  looked  again,  and  then  hur 
ried  to  her  side. 

"  My  dear  Nell,  what  does  this  mean  ? "  said  Theo 
bald.  "  Surely  you  were  to  have  gone  to-day.  I  came 
down  at  the  last  minute  to  see  a  friend  off,  and  sought 
for  but  failed  to  find  you  in  that  extraordinarily  gen 
teel  mob  on  board.  Where  is  Vernon,  and  why  have 
you  changed  your  plans  ? " 

"  Will  you  drive  up- town  with  me,  Tony  ? "  she  said, 
under  her  mask  of  heavy  gauze. 

Seeing  that  something  was  amiss,  he  acquiesced 
without  further  query.  When  they  were  seated,  and 
driving  off,  her  head  dropped  on  her  breast,  and  she 
broke  into  gasping  sobs. 

"  Oh !  to  whom  can  I  turn,  if  not  to  you?"  she  said 
despairingly.  "  Tony,  my  heart  is  broken.  He  told 
me  to  go  back  to  my  mother,  and — oh,  my  God! — 
what  shall  I  do  ?  He  has  forsaken  me." 

"  The  brute ! "  Theobald  said  between  his  teeth. 
He  could  hardly  speak  for  the  sudden  violence  of 
emotion  she  excited.  It  was  not  only  the  sight  of  the 
shipwrecked  young  life  driven  by  storms  back  into 
port  that  moved  him.  In  this  moment  of  tenderness, 
the  restraint  of  years  was  dashed  away  like  a  cobweb 
at  a  touch.  He  forgot  himself,  the  time  and  place, 
his  pledge  to  Betty;  and  the  man's  heart  inside  of 
him  burst  into  fierce  speech. 

"  Ah,  let  him  go  !  "  he  said,  hoarse  and  tremulous. 


220  SWEET  BELLS  OUT   OF   TUNE 

"You  can  be  free.  Yon  can  be  happy.  And  I  'm 
here  to  help  you — I  who  'd  give  my  life  to  save  you 
tears  like  these." 

Eleanor  started  and  shrank  as  if  she  had  been 
stung. 

"  This  from  you  !  "  she  cried  wildly.  "  Oh,  it  is 
more  than  I  can  bear ! " 

Then  Theobald's  brief  madness  passed  from  him, 
and  he  was  filled  with  bitter  self-reproach. 

"  Don't  draw  back  from  me,  Eleanor/7  he  said,  striv 
ing  to  steady  his  tones.  "Don't  be  afraid  to  trust 
me.  Do  I  need  to  tell  you  that  you  are  sacred  to  me  ? 
Let  me  take  you  to  your  mother ;  and  I  will  go,  and 
you  need  never  look  at  me  again.  Oh,  how  you  pain 
me  with  those  eyes  like  some  innocent  creature's  that 
I  Ve  shot  to  the  heart !  Speak  to  me,  Nell,  little  cou 
sin  ;  tell  me  I  am  forgiven." 

Behind  this  man's  one  offense  there  was  a  lifetime 
of  unselfish  tenderness ;  but,  womanlike,  she  withheld 
from  him  whom  she  could  never  have  loved  the  par 
don  always  poured  in  full  measure  at  Jerry's  feet. 
Drawing  the  veil  again  over  her  face,  she  leaned  back 
in  her  corner  in  silent  anguish  until  her  own  door 
was  reached. 

When  Theobald,  who  dared  not  offer  to  go  in, 
awaited  her  instructions  upon  the  threshold,  she  put 
her  fingers  into  his  faintly,  coldly,  and  bade  him  good- 
by  in  accents  barely  audible. 

"Then  I  may  do  nothing — save  you  nothing?"  he 
pleaded,  cut  to  the  quick.  "  You  dismiss  me  without 
pardon,  or  hope  that  I  may  come  to  you  again  ? " 

"Not  now,"  she  answered,  in  a  voice  he  would  not 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  221 

have  recognized  as  Nell's ;  "  but  it  is  not  that  I  don't 
believe  in  you.  Go,  please."  And  she  passed  away 
from  him. 

THE  day  wore  to  its  interminable  close,  and  Eleanor 
had  beaten  about  in  a  dreadful  circle  of  indecision  as 
to  what  course  to  pursue.  One  thought  was  dominant 
—  she  must  try  to  hide  from  those  who  loved  her  the 
wrong  done  her  by  him  she  loved.  Among  all  the 
people  who  had  been  her  friends  and  intimates  since 
childhood  there  was  no  one  to  whom  she  could  bare 
this  bleeding  wound.  Theobald,  almost  her  brother, 
would  have  been  the  first  to  occur  to  her,  and  he — 
Eleanor's  face  flushed  hotly  with  the  remembrance  of 
that  shock. 

What  was  right?  What  was  best  and  truest  to 
Jerry  and  to  her  higher  self  to  do  ?  It  might  be  that 
she  could  find  still  in  town  the  rector  who  had  offici 
ated  at  their  marriage,  and  who  had  held  her  in  his 
arms  at  the  baptismal  font;  and  stealing  from  the 
house,  she  walked,  veiled  as  before,  through  the  cool 
of  evening  to  his  home. 

"  Would  the  rector  see  a  lady  for  a  moment  only  ? " 
was  the  message  she  sent  in,  waiting  with  an  odd 
sense  of  the  change  from  her  position  of  command 
and  influence  wrought  in  her  own  mind  by  the  cause 
of  her  present  visit. 

She  sat,  trembling,  and  was  presently  relieved,  in  a 
degree,  by  the  appearance  in  the  room  of  the  rector's 
wife. 

"  If  you  will  tell  me  your  errand,  I  will  speak  to  my 
husband — "  she  began,  peering  curiously  at  the  stran- 


222  SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE 

ger,  and  when  Eleanor,  lifting  her  veil,  came  forward, 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  jocular  surprise. 

"  Nell  Vernon  !  Why,  child,  who  could  suppose  it 
was  you  ?  If  you  knew  the  watch  I  have  to  keep  on 
ladies  who  visit  the  doctor !  They  take  up  so  much 
time,  and  worry  the  life  out  of  him  with  their  fads 
and  fancies.  Men  are  men,  and  the  clergy  are  human, 
though  the  laymen  never  make  allowances.  The  way 
the  women  hang  upon  my  good  man's  words — no 
wonder  he  's  a  little  short  when  we  contradict  him  at 
home  sometimes.  And  they  tell  him  everything,  from 
quarrels  with  cooks  to  spats  with  husbands.  The 
truth  is,  child,  he  is  dressing  to  go  out  to  dinner,  and 
if  I  will  do  as  well — some  of  your  l  Girls'  Lodging 
House '  business,  no  doubt." 

"What  I  had  to  say  need  not  disturb  him  now," 
said  poor  Eleanor,  quietly  moving  toward  the  door. 

"Then  you  '11  call  again,  or  write?  I  heard  you 
were  going  to  the  other  side.  And  how  's  that  hand 
some  husband  of  yours,  my  dear  ?  My  girls  are  just 
wild  over  him,  but  I  believe  all  women  are.  Take  my 
advice,  and  don't  let  him  flirt  too  much." 

"  I  ASKED  for  bread,  and  ye  gave  me  a  stone,"  the 
girl  murmured  involuntarily,  as  she  found  her  way 
again  into  the  street,  and  the  crushed  spirit  that  had 
yearned  to  be  made  whole  by  the  healing  touch  of 
God's  pity  expressed  through  his  minister  was  sent 
out  unhelped  to  wander  stumbling  in  the  night  of  its 
despair.  She  looked  down  the  vista  of  a  side  street, 
and  knew  that  it  ended  in  the  river. 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  223 

"  When  a  tie  like  ours  is  wrenched  apart,  and  there 
is  no  help,  death  were  sweet  and  merciful/'  she 
thought,  staying  her  steps  for  a  confused  moment 
upon  the  curbstone  of  the  crossing. 

Then  two  girls,  accompanied  by  a  young  man, 
walked  by  her,  laughing  lightly.  The  voice  and  man 
ner  of  one  of  them  put  her  in  mind  of  her  sister  Bea 
trix,  and  instantly  the  claims  and  duties  of  her  life  of 
every  day  rushed  back  to  take  possession  of  the  dis 
tracted  citadel  from  which  grief  had  temporarily  dis 
lodged  them.  With  the  thought  of  Trix  came  that  of 
the  girl's  happy  young  love,  just  now  on  probation 
with  the  authority  at  home,  and  Eleanor  was  cheered 
by  it  as  if  a  warm  hand  had  taken  her  frozen  fingers 
into  its  clasp.  It  roused  in  her  human  interest,  and 
melted  the  hard  resentment  against  Fate  that  had 
begun  to  glaze  over  her  sympathies,  and  that  made 
her  forget  the  world  contained  others  than  Jerry  and 
Hildegarde. 

Unconsciously  she  quickened  her  steps  in  the  direc 
tion  of  her  home,  but,  at  the  corner  nearest  it,  stopped 
again,  overcome  by  the  thought  that  her  servants, 
already  in  possession  of  an  evening  paper,  might  see, 
perhaps,  some  announcement  that  Jerry  had  gone 
without  her,  and  thus  her  miserable  pretense  of  a 
delay  would  be  exposed.  How  could  she  face  Elsa's 
smooth  civility,  veiling  the  servant's  galling  know 
ledge  of  a  domestic  skeleton?  Oh,  for  brief  respite 
from  the  humiliation  of  public  comment  or  sympathy ! 

To-morrow — there  was  no  help  for  it — she  would 
be  forced  to  go  back  battered  and  bleeding  to  her 


224  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

mother's  home,  carrying  her  shame  to  "be  shared  by 
those  tender  hearts!  But  now,  ah,  now — only  to 
escape  another  night  in  her  desolated  home ! 

The  image  of  Gerald's  aunt,  the  avoided  and  isolated 
Miss  Tryphena,  presented  itself  in  sudden  invitation. 
Eleanor,  hastily,  lest  she  should  repent,  retraced  her 
steps  to  the  avenue,  and  got  into  an  omnibus  bound 
up-town. 

The  long,  jolting  expedition  gave  her  time  to  re 
flect  on  the  temerity  of  expecting  sympathy  from  the 
source  she  sought.  Of  the  passengers  who  climbed 
in  and  dropped  out  of  the  vehicle  along  its  route  none 
were  known  to  her ;  for  the  society  element  of  town 
was  off  on  its  annual  hejira,  and  people  who  remained 
within  its  limits  were  of  the  fraternity  of  workers. 
She  found  herself  studying  the  faces  of  these  stran 
gers,  eagerly  wondering  if  their  hearts  carried  a  dead 
weight  like  her  own,  envying  the  couples  who  were 
bound  together  to  their  homes,  envying  the  gossips 
who  sat,  knee  to  knee,  gaily  discussing  important 
trivialities.  And  when  a  young  woman,  laden  with 
parcels,  gave  her  hand  to  her  husband,  who  helped 
her  to  descend,  beaming  on  him  with  a  transparently 
loving  smile,  Eleanor  turned  away  fretfully,  and  won 
dered  if  she  should  never  reach  her  goal. 

Aunt  Tryphena's  house,  one  of  sad  brownstone  ex 
terior,  in  a  long,  forbidding  block  of  buildings  from 
which  it  varied  not  a  whit,  was  inhabited,  and  her 
butler,  in  coming  to  open  the  door,  stopped  on  his 
way  to  light  the  gas  in  the  hall  from  a  fixture  like  a 
shepherd's  crook.  This  homely  sign  gave  Nell  cour 
age  to  send  up  her  name  to  the  mistress  of  the  castle, 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  225 

who,  if  an  ogress,  lived  in  the  conventional  way  of 
other  householders  j  and  at  once  Miss  Trypheiia  de 
scended  to  her  long  drawing-room  swathed  in  gray 
linen  coverings,  and  illumined  by  a  single  jet  of  gas. 

"  I  was  bitten  by  a  mosquito  here  la,st  night,"  she 
said  severely.  "  Edmunds  knows  I  told  him  to  keep 
this  room  quite  dark.  There  is  light  enough  from 
the  electric  globe  across  the  way."  And,  to  Nell's  sat 
isfaction,  the  oif  ending  luminary  was  at  once  put  out. 
"Now,  you  will  tell  me,  if  you  please,  what  brings 
you  here  when  the  soup  is  just  ready  to  be  sent  up. 
Unless  Jerry  's  in  jail  for  debt,  or  Luella  's  married,  I 
can't  imagine  what  you  can  have  to  say  to  me." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Tryphena,  be  kind  to  me,"  cried  the  girl, 
seizing  one  of  the  old  lady's  large,  rough  hands  in 
both  of  hers,  and  bursting  into  bitter  sobs  that  could 
no  longer  be  controlled. 

"  Do  ? "  said  the  spinster,  when,  the  belated  soup 
discussed,  and  dinner  over,  the  two  resumed  their  talk. 
"There,  child,  you  look  like  a  human  being,  not  a 
ghost,  now  you  are  fed,  and  have  had  a  glass  of  wine. 
Why,  there  is  but  one  thing  to  do.  I  will  go  down 
town  first  thing  to-morrow  morning,  and  engage  a 
room  in  the  quickest  steamer  we  can  get  for  Satur 
day.  I  will  take  you  straight  to  London,  and  leave 
you  at  Luella's  house  before  even  your  mother  has 
had  time  to  find  out  the  condition  of  affairs.  And  I 
will  then  catch  the  first  boat  by  the  Dover- Calais 
route,  and  go  to  a  place  in  Switzerland  I  left  three 
years  ago.  It  is  a  place  that  suited  me  exactly,  but  I 
could  n't  stand  a  pair  of  esthetic  idiots  from  England 
15 


226  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

who  were  stopping  there,  who  used  to  complain  of  the 
sunsets  because  they  were  too  crude.  Now,  write  a 
line  by  Edmunds  to  your  maid,  and  have  some  things 
sent  here  for  the  night,  as  it  will  be  lonely  for  you  in 
that  house,  and  cheer  up,  child,  for  Heaven's  sake,  for 
I  could  never  abide  to  have  anybody  complaining  but 
myself.'7 

"  But,  Aunt  Tryphena,"  said  Eleanor,  a  crimson  tide 
overwhelming  the  pallor  of  her  face,  "  even  if  Jerry  is 
there,  I  ought  not  to  —  should  I  ? — thrust  myself  upon 
him.  Oh,  did  n't  I  tell  you  how  he  cast  me  off,  and 
killed  my  love  ? " 

"  For  better,  for  worse,  child  j  you  must  remember 
that  for  both  of  you,"  said  the  old  woman,  with  a 
break  in  her  gruff  voice.  "  Whatever  comes,  you  will 
have  been  true.  And  your  love  's  not  dead;  don't 
think  it.  Keep  it  alive, — breathe  new  breath  in  it, — 
it  will  make  this  struggle  strengthen  you.  And,  as 
certainly  as  I  live,  if  anything  will  bring  him  back  to 
you  love  will." 

"Back  from  another — oh,  no,  no!"  cried  Eleanor, 
tortured  by  the  thought. 

"My  dear,  it  is  for  you  to  choose.  But  I  think 
you  '11  find  your  jealous  miseries  have  exaggerated 
things.  The  chief  offender  is  that  De  Lancey  person, 
backed  up  by  your  'best  society.'  Jerry  's  had  the 
bad  luck,  from  all  I  hear,  to  fall  into  the  hands  of 
a  woman  who  has  the  consciousness  of  disappointed 
schemes  to  help  on  her  love  of  coquetry.  It 's  not  a 
common  experience  you  've  had  to  bear  so  early  in 
married  life  —  even  among  what  I  call  the  most  friv 
olous  and  brainless  set  of  people  on  this  continent. 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  227 

But  that  creature  will  continue  to  go  at  large,  and 
ruin  other  homes,  no  doubt.  Our  boy  's  weak,  but 
he  's  not  all  bad.  If  his  father  had  n't  had  the  mis 
fortune  to  die  and  leave  all  that  money  in  the  hands 
of  a  silly  woman,  Jerry  Veriion  would  have  been,  as 
men  go,  a  fair  sort  of  man ;  I  don't  suppose  you 
know,  or  he  cares,  but  the  fact  is  I  loved  Jerry  dearly 
when  he  was  a  boy.  I  thought  he  would  grow  up  to 
be — but  that's  neither  here  nor  there.  In  my  opin 
ion,  it  is  for  you  to  straighten  out  this  snarl.  If  you 
think  enough  of  an  old  maid,  tough  as  a  nut,  who  's 
nobody's  friend,  to  take  advice  from  her — don't  let 
the  gulf  widen,  don't  let  your  husband  go  without 
stretching  out  your  hand  to  bring  him  back.  Come 
with  me,  Eleanor,  and  leave  your  pride  behind." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment  in  the  shadowy 
room,  and  the  sound  of  a  woman's  short,  quick,  gasp 
ing  sob ;  then  Eleanor 

Smote  the  chord  of  Self,  that,  trembling,  pass'd  in  music  out 
of  sight. 

"  I  will  go,"  she  breathed,  and  with  a  sudden  move 
ment  cast  herself  upon  Aunt  Tryphena's  neck,  and  let 
the  delicious  cordial  of  new  hope  warm  the  sad  cur 
rent  of  her  widowed  heart. 

Two  years  have  passed  since  the  green  shades  of 
the  widow  Vernon's  marble  palace  in  the  higher  re 
gions  of  Fifth  Avenue  first  proclaimed  that  lady  out 
of  town.  The  wide  portal  is  boarded  over,  and  the 
premises  are  in  charge  of  an  Irishman  and  his  wife, 
whose  frowsy  children  gambol  behind  the  basement 


228  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

windows,  and  skate  on  rollers  over  the  asphalt  of  the 
adjacent  street.  Above  the  area  level  all  is  silent, 
gloomy  •  and  as  yet  there  is  no  hint  that  the  mistress 
of  the  palace  will  resume  possession. 

From  within  doors  the  best  of  the  bric-a-brac  and 
pictures  and  books,  with  the  portraits  of  Gerald  and 
his  mother,  since  admired  at  the  Royal  Academy,  were 
long  ago  taken  to  be  boxed  and  expressed  to  the  dom 
icile  in  London,  where  the  dowager  Lady  Shorthorn 
has  not  yet  called  upon  her  son's  recently  made  wife. 
The  American  Lady  Shorthorn  can,  however,  afford 
to  be  indifferent  to  this  blow  of  Fate,  as  she  is  already 
a  social  power  in  her  adopted  home,  and  as  her  young 
husband,  upon  whom  she  has  settled  a  liberal  income, 
in  addition  to  paying  his  debts,  makes  an  attentive 
and  good-humored  spouse.  She  is  also  on  excellent 
terms  with  her  son  Gerald  and  his  wife,  who,  of  course, 
spent  all  of  that  summer  at  her  house  while  he  was 
convalescing  from  the  long  attack  of  typhoid  through 
which  Eleanor,  arriving  just  in  time  from  America, 
nursed  him  so  devotedly.  And  the  new  countess 
("Martha  Louisa  Anne,  daughter  of  Colonel  William 
Judd,  United  States  Army,  U.S.A."  —  you  will  find 
her  recorded  in  Burke  and  Debrett  and  Dod)  has  had 
lately  the  satisfaction  of  refusing  a  card  (requested 
through  a  friend,  for  her  world-famous  ball)  to  a  Mrs. 
Van  Loon  of  New  York,  who  has  been  stopping  at 
Claridge's. 

Mrs.  Calliope  Jane  Ketcham  is  at  present  in  one  of 
her  periodical  states  of  eclipse.  When  and  where  she 
may  next  appear  it  is  impossible  to  predict,  but  my 
Lady  Shorthorn  will,  no  doubt,  be  among  the  first  to 
ascertain. 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  229 

Miss  Tryphena  Vernon,  not  in  the  least  like  the 
crusty  benefactor  of  the  novelist  who,  under  the  im 
pulse  of  a  good  action  in  the  last  chapter,  reforms  and 
remains  angelic  ever  after,  would  probably  take  the 
head  off  any  inquirer  as  to  her  relations  with  her  niece 
and  nephew.  But  Nell  knows  that  they  are  affection 
ate,  and  both  she  and  Jerry  submit  to  be  hectored  by 
the  old  lady  in  grateful  memory  of  her  influence  at 
the  crisis  of  their  married  life. 

Nell's  home  people  suffered,  as  may  be  imagined, 
from  the  strange  reports  that  were  set  afloat  at  the 
time  when  Gerald  left  his  wife  to  follow  him  across 
the  ocean.  But  although  slander  did  its  best,  nothing 
was  fixed  upon  any  participant  in  the  affair,  beyond 
the  fact  of  "  some  foolish  quarrel  between  the  young 
couple  about  Hilda  de  Lancey,  who  it  was  well  known 
was  chaperoned  on  that  voyage  over  by  the  Blanks 
and  the  Dashes/'  and,  it  was  equally  well  known, 
meant  nothing  serious  by  her  little  flirtation  with 
Jerry  Vernon,  now  said  to  be  "the  shadow"  of  his 
wife. 

And  so  even  Mrs.  Halliday,  her  other  daughters,  and 
her  son  knew  little  of  the  darkest  chapter  of  the  young 
wife's  experience.  In  the  autumn  after  these  events 
Nell's  mother  and  sisters  joined  her  in  Paris  for  a  fort 
night  before  the  Vernons  set  out  for  their  winter's 
journey  in  the  East,  and,  during  that  time,  satisfied 
themselves  that  the  first  year  of  her  married  life  bid 
fair  to  round  itself  peacefully  to  a  close. 

The  wide  old  Halliday  house  in  New  York,  facing 
the  railed  square  on  the  eastern  side  of  town,  and 
noticed  by  passers  for  its  growth  of  wistaria  looped 
between  the  chimney-tops  in  great  ropes  tasseled  in 


230  SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE 

spring  with  purple  under  a  mist  of  greenery,  is  for 
ever  deserted  by  its  former  occupants.  For  months 
workmen  had  it  in  their  hands,  coming  and  going 
between  piles  of  brick  and  mortar  encumbering  the 
street.  Its  front  has  been  transformed  with  plate- 
glass  windows  and  gilded  balconies.  Within  marble 
halls,  a  buttony  page  keeps  watch  where  once  old  An 
drews  came  creaking  to  open  the  front  door.  A  pros 
perous  club  has  taken  possession,  and  the  Hallidays 
will  be  known  in  it  no  more. 

Beatrix,  who  was,  after  all,  the  chief  sentimentalist 
about  this  change,  is  supplied  with  a  fount  of  private 
happiness  that  enables  her  to  rise  above  minor  con 
siderations  of  every  material  kind.  In  her  eyes,  as 
in  those  of  his  mother,  to  whom  and  his  grandfather 
Trix  will  one  day  go  for  a  visit  when  the  roses  are  in 
bloom,  Brock  Vyvan  is  a  "man  of  to-morrow/'  as  to 
whose  future  there  can  be  no  doubt.  Betty's  marriage 
with  Mr.  Theobald  occurred  upon  her  return  from 
Europe.  And  Jack,  for  whom  the  four  years  of  college 
life  leave  the  imagination  no  room  to  vary  occupa 
tions,  is  still  at  Yale,  holding  the  blue  banner  man 
fully  as  he  ascends. 

A  piece  of  news  that  afforded  almost  a  fortnight's 
gossip  for  the  fashionable  world  was  the  marriage  of 
the  heir  of  the  Van  Loons  with  Mrs.  Hildegarde  de 
Lancey,  "  privately,"  at  Nice.  Betty  Theobald  says 
the  fur  has  not  ceased  to  fly  in  the  Van  Loon  family, 
but  then,  as  Mrs.  Van  Shuter  would  observe,  every 
body  knows  how  Betty  Theobald  will  talk. 

The  other  home  in  New  York  in  which  we  have 
been  called  on  to  take  passing  interest — Eleanor's 


SWEET   BELLS   OUT   OF   TUNE  231 

first  nest,  fitted  up  for  her  occupancy  with  such  lavish 
love — remained  for  a  time  vacant  after  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Vernoii  set  out  for  their  two-years'  wandering.  In 
January  an  agent  had  orders  from  Lady  Shorthorn  to 
find  for  it  an  occupant,  and  succeeded  in  placing  there 
the  Hempstead  Hunters,  who  take  a  different  house 
every  year,  but  are  in  demand  as  tenants  because  they 
are  conscientiously  childless,  and  dine  out  six  nights 
in  the  week. 

And  so — fortunately,  if  temporarily — our  young 
couple  have  dropped  out  of  the  society  that  claims 
them  for  its  own,  and  that  came  so  near  breaking  the 
bond  it  once  assembled  to  applaud.  In  the  compan 
ionship  of  their  nomadic  existence,  each  has  learned 
dependence  on  the  other;  and  the  irresistible  habit 
of  married  life  has  had  time  to  weld  their  chains. 
Already  they  have  learned  to  look  back  upon  that 
early  ordeal,  bitter  though  it  was,  as  an  episode  that 
may  be  forgotten  in  the  memory  of  happier  days. 


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